The friend, the foe and the fox
by Ida Mirei
Summary: Zorro suspects the plot prepared by one of the respected citizens of Los Angeles. In the meantime, Diego must strive to protect his second identity. When two threads combine, the Fox will be in serious troubles… Based on WD Zorro.
1. Beware beginnings

**The friend, the foe and the fox**

_This is the continuation of the reality presented in my story "Old friends return", but it describes entirely new adventures, so you do not have to read the first part to understand the thread. The only thing you have to know is that Diego is married now, with a very nice girl of course:) _

_It is a simple adventure story, not too deep and not too serious, written for fun to make readers laugh. I hope you will be able to visualise it as some additional episode from the movie._

_Of course I do not own the characters that belong to Disney. I am not Disney. If I were, I would finish his show properly. With grandchildren!_

_The warm thanks IcyWaters for corrections, suggestions and comments. Without her wanting to read the next chapter this story probably never would be finished... Thank you!_

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* * *

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**Beware beginnings**

"Don Diego! What a horse you have!" exclaimed Sergeant Garcia with amazement, when he saw me crossing the plaza. I was just returning from the horse auction in Monterey and by my side danced anxiously the stunning foal, white as milk.

"Real beauty, isn't he?"

"Oh yes, and not only that, he will be fast as wind when he starts riding! Perhaps even faster than Zorro's horse!"

"I hope I will never have to find it out," I smiled, trying to calm the animal, scared by the loud voice of the big sergeant.

During our conversation a few passersby stopped to admire the horse, our new _magistrado_, Damián Peraza among them.

He is a young, brilliant lawyer, just after studies in Madrid. His ambitions were much higher than the office in the dusty, small pueblo at the end of the word, but in spite of his intelligence, without support of high-standing relatives, he didn't manage to find any other position.

"Nice horse, Don Diego," he said reluctantly, and added with malicious grin, "Not too spirited for you?"

_Magistrado _Peraza doesn't like me very much.

The disappointment made him bitter, and now he treats with resentment all wealthy _haciendados_, whose lives have been so much easier than his. He could eventually tolerate hard-working _rancheros_, as my father, but toward such lucky idlers as me, he holds near the shadow of envy, the deepest contempt.

I am already used to ignoring his animosity.

"Oh, he is not for me," I explained with the serene smile. "I bought him for my wife."

Some of the gathered onlookers couldn't restrain from laughing. Damián Peraza snickered dismissively and turned back to watch the merchant's stand with fine Spanish and Italian swords.

Our _magistrado_ has namely one passion quite uncommon for lawyers: fencing. From what I heard, it is his favorite entertainment to which he devotes most of his free time. I would very much like to try with him once, but it is rather not possible. I might fight only as _el Zorro, _and, as the _magistrado _is severe, but unimpeachably honest in his judgments, it is unlikely that he will ever meet the Fox on his path.

No, _magistrado _Peraza may mock me, but I do not have to trouble myself with him. The most serious problem I have right now - apart from my sweet wife, of course - is my new friend, Jose Manuel Barcelo, Capitán Barcelo, now exercising with some lancers in front of the _cuartel_. He smiles and waves to me, silently applauding the horse and signing that he cannot talk to me at the moment. That's all right. He will visit me this evening, we will taste a new shipment of Madeira and chat. Capitán Barcelo has many common interests with Diego de la Vega: books, wine, even music... He plays the piano quite well. No wonder that we soon became friends.

The problem is that my friend Barcelo is here to kill me.

* * *

That story began only three weeks ago. I was returning from a few days trip to Santa Barbara, to order the annual supplies for the rancho. I always leave Los Angeles reluctantly – what happens if there is some task for _el Zorro_? However, sometimes I just have to go. It would be quite suspicious as well, if all our business would be done by my father. I went alone, this time having left Bernardo in the _hacienda_. I felt better, knowing that Rosa will be safer under his silent guard.

I did what I had to as soon as possible and was on my way back, making the last stop before Los Angeles in the inn on the crossroads. I was just quickly finishing my meal, when three masked, armed men rushed into the tavern shouting: "Everyone against the wall! Keep your hands up!"

Well, well, one week away and already such a mess after my return?

I went calmly to the wall, keeping my hands up and stood quiet, when the robbers started to gather purses and jewels. I did not intend to fight - there were too many people in the tavern. My secret is worth more than my purse. Yet, something was telling me that three _bandidos _would soon have a visit from another masked man. Then I could use Padre Benitez to return the robbed valuables to their owners.

However, my hopes for putting a simple and quiet end to this adventure were in vain. When their leader approached me, instead of taking my money, he stopped in front of me and looked at me attentively:

"Hey, I know, you, dandy. You are the young de la Vega. Cowardly caballero with the fiery wife."

"I am Diego de la Vega," I answered calmly. There is no reason to overreact when someone says in my face what people usually tell behind my back.

"Great. So you go with us. Your father will gladly pay a nice ransom for you." He grinned.

I almost cursed aloud. I hoped that at the evening I would be eating the late supper with Rosa, now instead of that, I would be bound for the company of lousy _desperados_. Well, these are the consequences of neglecting one's duties: _el Zorro _makes vacations and decent people cannot rejoin their families on time.

To calm myself I imagined big "Z's" on their jackets and promised not to linger too much with bringing that idea into life. As for now, I just let them lead me out of the tavern, hoping that misled by my passive behavior, they will forget to bind me and I will be able to... get lost somewhere in the meantime. Unfortunately, they did not, although the leader threw some mocking remark that from what he had heard about me, it was quite unnecessary.

They took me to their hiding place, a small cave in the mountains. I remembered its position, decided to wait patiently for the ransom and then return here in more suitable... outfit, when I noticed a curled, moaning man laying under the stone walls of the cave. He was bound and badly beaten, so that he looked rather like a bundle of bloodied rags than like a man. His chest must have been badly bruised and the tight binds on his arm caused difficulties in breathing.

"Unbind that man," I asked them. "His wounds must be taken care of, or he will die."

"So let it be. It is not your business," answered the leader shrugging his shoulders.

"I will pay the ransom for him too, but he must survive," I proposed, hoping that I would tempt them with money to take care about their prisoner, but he only laughed.

"I will get what I want for you alone. My scores with this man are different and you better stay away from it!" he warned me.

"Unbind him and let me see to his wounds!" I shouted quite furious, but the only result I achieved was the punch into my jaw, that sent me into another corner of the cave.

The _banditos_ laughed and I decided that there would be no use in continuing that conversation. I lay quiet, pretending to be stunned and calculated the time. If I wait for the ransom, it will take at least two days until I will able to get back here on Tornado. The wounded man would probably not last so long.

So, there was no other choice. I decided we were getting out of there right now.

There are three things that made our premature departure possible. The first is that the _bandito _usually drink to celebrate the good spoil. The second that only theoretically the warden watches the prisoners without getting a wink of sleep. And the last one – that, although as Diego de la Vega I never wear a weapon with me, in such turbulent times it is always advisable to have some ace in your sleeve – or blade in your shoes.

So, when the _banditos_ were suitably drunk, my binds cut and the guard drowsing, I knocked him down with ease. The other two got alarmed with the sudden movement, but... these were only two half-drunk men, with far less expertise than mine...

When they were all stunned, I rest for a moment, quite satisfied. It has been a long time since I had an occasion for a good fight. However, satisfaction faded when I noticed that the wounded man, although half-conscious and feverish, watched me with the glittering eyes. It was not good that someone saw me fighting.

Yet, there was nothing I could do, but continue as planned. For a moment I wondered what to do with the robbers. If I would bind them and send here the lancers, Diego de la Vega would have to explain his surprising success. Eventually, I left them as they were, leaving them to run away when they wake up. It will be a pleasure for the Fox to hunt for them once more. I only scared away their horses, so that they couldn't follow us too soon.

The last animal I kept for me and my unknown friend. I tried to dress quickly his wounds as I could, pulled him on the saddle and climbed behind him, taking him home as soon as possible.

The fresh air must have had good influence on him, as when we arrived at the _hacienda_ and my father, alarmed with the noise, welcomed us on the patio, he recovered consciousness for a moment.

"Where... am I?" he asked, curling with the heavy cough.

"In the de la Vega hacienda, _Senor_. Near the pueblo of Los Angeles. You are safe now. My son and I will take care of your injuries," answered my father, while I tried to sustain him and slowly lead him to the bed.

"Los Angeles?" the stranger asked with sudden interest.

"Yes. You have some family here? Some friends?" asked my father with the shadow of anxiety, throwing the worried glance of me. I shared his feelings. It wouldn't be good if this man had someone in Los Angeles to whom he could praise my last achievement.

"No... no family..." he coughed, grabbing my arms for support. "I am on.. assignment... Capitán... Barcelo... Jose Manuel... Barcelo." I kept him stronger, when the new attack of cough came.

"Assignment?" asked my father, while I was laying him on a bed.

"Temporary... assignment... to catch the outlaw... _el Zorro..._" he leaned on me, fighting for breath.

Great. Just great.

For a moment he must have felt better, as he continued a bit stronger.

"But I would never reach this place without you, _Senor_.. They would have.. killed me..." he coughed and turned to my father: "Your son saved my life... he is a real fighter, _Senor_..."

Even better.

* * *

We nursed Capitán Barcelo in the hacienda with the help of his young niece, who arrived from Santa Barbara as soon as we let his family know about his condition. Luckily, he was a strong man and healed very quickly. I was relieved about his health, yet full of worst premonitions about his memories. I know very well, how important the first impression is... Had I the chance to repeat that night in the cave, I would certainly have to do the same, but I would act with more caution. However, it was no use crying over the spilt milk. Instead, we did our best to picture for him quite another Diego de la Vega than the man he got to know during that dramatic night, hoping to suppress his memories, already unclear because of pain and fever. So, when he started to praise me once more, my father lifted incredulously his eyebrows:

"My son has many merits, _Senor_, but God knows that being a fighter is not one of them... Only in the most ultimate situations can he show some energy... and courage, I am afraid. It is lucky, that on that night he was able to behave as any decent man and Christian should, and help you... And it is a luck indeed, that those men were drunk..." he laughed with sad irony.

"Diego? Diego did it?" lamented anxiously my Rosita. "Oh, God, it is such a luck, that he came home alive after all this! Overexertion makes him always feverish!"

I, on my side, tried to be the muster of a polite and peaceful scholar, interested only in his books... and good wines. I even offered to entertain him playing the piano. To my surprise, he graciously accepted it. Capitán Barcelo, although the fierce soldier himself, had much appreciation toward finer pleasures, as for the member of the old, aristocratic family befits. So, soon Diego de la Vega got the closest friend he ever had in Los Angeles, since his return from Spain.

Finally the day has come, when Capitán Barcelo was fit and healthy again, and able to undertake his mission. I only hoped that till that time I managed to charm him enough, so that when he, while investigating the records of Zorro's offenses, learns that I was accused of being the Fox on more than one occasion, will only put the reports aside with the amused smile.

* * *

The fact that today on the plaza Capitán Barcelo greeted me with usual friendly smile strengthened my hopes, so in a good mood I rushed home with the white foal.

"Good purchase, Son!" exclaimed merrily my father, when I arrived at the hacienda. "Full-blood, isn't he? It will be the finest horse in our stud one day!"

"Do not be so rush with taking him to your stud, Father. He is not for you, only for Rosita," I teased him, but he looked at me outraged.

"Have you lost your mind, Diego? A horse? For the woman in her condition? It is dangerous!"

"Uh... I haven't thought about it," I admit confused. "But aren't you exaggerating a little, Father... I will make sure that..."

"Heaven knows, Diego, you behave reckless like a boy! You will never manage to keep her away from him! Just tell her it is for someone else. We will hide him somewhere outside the hacienda, and you will give it to her later. After the childbirth."

"All right," I nod. "I will train him for her in the meantime."

We exchange the glances of two conspirators, strengthening ourselves mutually in our resolution.

"Just... do it like a diplomat, Diego. You are far better in such things than me," adds my father suddenly weak, looking anxiously at Rosa, who just appeared on the balcony.

After the week of absence I was even more than usual surprised how lovely, how radiantly she looked. It is still hardly noticeable that she is with child. To tell the truth, for me she looks just the same as usual, but something must have changed, as for some time she has developed the habit of staying in front of the mirror and lamenting that she lost her figure and looks terrible. Usually, she finishes her complains with putting the blame on me. She puts the blame on me for many things in general - I haven't been shouted at so much since the drill exercises during my studies...

However, I prefer that than the fate of my father. Each time when he tries to do something that is not to her liking, she immediately cries, looking at him as if he was going to murder her favorite kitten – or as the very same kitten to be murdered. I especially like that part when she asks him sobbing whether he regrets letting her live in his house. It makes our brave man of action capitulate and withdraw in a second. I guess that my father was so obsessed with the theoretical idea of having grandchildren, that he overlooked some practical aspects of this issue…

Yet now Rosa is beaming with joy, as if she hadn't seen me for months, not for only one week.

"Diego! You are back!" she flies down the stairs and throws herself on my neck. I also feel as if I hadn't seen her for months. "Oh, what a lovely foal! For me, isn't he?"

"Of course," I answer with a smile, couldn't take my eyes off her.

My father shakes his head, so I add hastily:

"But you will be careful, won't you? He has to be trained. You cannot ride him yet. And do not get too near to him, please."

"Of course, Diego, whatever you want," she answers so quickly that I guess she wasn't listening to me at all, caressing the horse that gratefully accepts the favors, finally calming down with her soft voice.

"And what sort of diplomacy was that?" whispers angrily my father, but lowers his voice so that Rosa wouldn't hear him.

"Well, anyway, maybe now she will stop cuddling Tornado. It is even more dangerous," I try to defend myself, but my father only sighs heavily:

"For Heaven's sake, Diego, I wanted you to tell her the truth, but not necessarily to show her the entrance to the passage!"

Then, resigned, he raised his voice and informed me: "Capitán Barcelo will eat with us at supper tonight. Together with Sergeant Garcia."

That surprised me a little. Why Barcelo chose to visit us accompanied not by his niece, as usual, only by the sergeant? The capitán behaved toward Garcia with the faultless politeness – _No, Sergeant, I didn't come here to take the command from you, only to help you –_ yet with well-articulated superiority, which doesn't let our _acting commandante_ forget that the capitán and he are from different words. So, the poor sergeant always felt uncomfortable in the presence of the dashing capitán. They didn't socialize too much. Why now were they coming together? I got the answer after supper.

"Don Diego, I would like to ask you for a favor. Thanks to your hospitality, I am perfectly well again, and it is time I seriously start fulfilling my duties. I allowed myself to bring today Sergeant Garcia with me, so that we could together discuss the best strategy to catch this outlaw I came here for," states Barcelo, as we finished th meal.

"But, Capitán, I am afraid I will not be of much help," I stutter surprised. "I have never had much to do with the Fox..."

"Please, Don Diego - I need any help you could grant me. I am a stranger in this pueblo, I do not know to whom I could trust."

How true.

So we three sit in the sala, with anxious Bernardo serving the wine and waiting under the wall – very foreseeing near the carafes and vases, so that he could break something and create a little commotion, in case the conversation takes an uncomfortable direction.

Capitán Barcelo opens our war council.

"So – what exactly do we know about so called _el Zorro_?

"Exactly – nothing, _mi Capitán_," reports competently Sergeant Garcia.

"Please, Sergeant, this man appeared here on dozens of occasions in the last two years! There must be some clue to his identity."

"He wears the mask," I remind.

"Yes, I know. But does it cover his whole face?"

"No, only the eyes..." admits Garcia.

"So, that's something! The rest: his jaw, mouth, nose – does he remind you of someone? Has he got any peculiar markings? Any scars?"

"Well, he looks... normal," replies the sergeant after the moment of consideration.

Thank you, Sergeant. That is exactly what I think looking in the mirror.

"He usually appears at night, in darkness," I add, hoping to discourage the capitán from pursuing that subject.

"I know that too, but I know also, that our lancers, especially Sergeant Garcia, met him on few occasions during the day. You must be able to describe him somehow, Sergeant! Do you recall any detail about his face? Anything?"

"He has a mustache," says slowly Sergeant Garcia, apparently acknowledging that fact for the first time. Capitán Barcelo questions seem to do miracles and I really do not like it.

"Great! What kind of mustache?"

"Well..." Sergeant Garcia looks around in search for inspiration. When his eyes fall on me for a moment he beams, but he quickly tries to return to his normal expression. "Well.. just a mustache. Everyone has the mustache!" he exclaims, shaking his head.

Whether it is because of the sympathy Sergeant Garcia feels toward the masked swashbuckler, or because he would like to catch _el Zorro _himself – I get the feeling that my dear sergeant is not very eager to help the capitán.

"True, true..." mumbles Barcelo, running his fingers over his own trigged mustache. "So, what can we do?"

"I know!" I think I should show some good will. "You could ask all men in Los Angeles and surrounding areas to try on the mask, and see whether the lancers will identify him!"

"All men?...:" The capitán's face goes low, especially when Garcia adds:

"That is exactly what _Commandate _Monastario did after his first encounter with the Fox!"

"Was it of any use?..."

"Well, no... But we spent the whole day wandering from one hacienda to another... only to arrest poor Benito... But I think that the c_ommandante_ just wanted him out of his way to the Senorita Elena Torres. That is the story, _mi capitán_! It all started with Senor Torres..."

"It is all right, Sergeant, we are not here to listen to it now," Barcelo waves his hand, not hiding the disrespect. I guess he must be getting tired. "What else... He must be young, if he is in such good physical form, but how young? In his twenties? Thirties?"

We both sit silent for a few seconds, until I explain apologetically:

"As I said, he usually appears at night..."

"And his build? Is he low, high? Slim, or heavy-muscled?"

"He usually wears the cape..." starts Sergeant Garcia, but the capitán interrupts him almost shouting:

"For God's Sake, Sergeant, I'm starting to think that you have never seen this man at all!"

"He is very tall," states the sergeant with the offended voice.

I was about to stand up to pour ourselves more wine, but I resign and wave for Bernardo to do it.

"How tall exactly? Six feet? Seven?"

"Six. Or rather seven," explains the sergeant.

His answer may be quite confusing, so I hurry to help him:

"No, not so much. Six and the half the most. I would even say less. Much less."

"So," concludes Capitán Barcelo through clenched teeth, "he is a young or middle-aged man, with covered eyes, normal face, undefined built and the height from six to seven feet."

I agree that we aren't very helpful...

Capitán Barcelo paces thought the room, while the sergeant and I sit innocently waiting for further questions. Suddenly he stops:

"How does he fence?"

"Excellently!" beams Sergeant Garcia with such admiration that I pour him another glass of wine.

"Yes, but, how? As the man who was trained by the professional instructors – or just the talented self-taught?"

I only spread my hands – the area of fencing is totally strange to me. So the capitán turns to Garcia:

"You are a soldier, Sergeant, you were trained. You must be able to tell me something about his style. What kind of moves, what kind of blows does he use?"

Sergeant Garcia considers the issue with such concentration, that I can see the veins on his temple.

"Effective ones, _mi capitán_!" he reports finally.

Silence. Silence, in which we hear only Barcelo's steps.

"How does he speak? As the commoner or as the caballero?"

Ouch. Please, my friend, do not exclude _vaqueros _from the circle of suspicions. It would put me in a very difficult position. There are not so many young – or middle-aged – caballeros in the neighborhood. Luckily that subject is a bit too abstract to the poor sergeant, so it is my turn.

"You know, Capitán, I think I can help," I say as if struck with the sudden idea, "I have never heard him speak any foreign language."

Capitán Barcelo looks defeated.

"So, if we have no clue to his identity, we must catch him in his mask. How is it possible that no one has yet defeated him?"

"Oh, he is just better," hurries to explain Sergeant Garcia. "He is the best with the sword, and the whip, and the pistol. And he has the best, the fastest horse. There is no man who could equal with him."

I start to enjoy the evening. On the contrary to Capitán Barcelo.

"Thank you, Sergeant Garcia, for your reassuring opinion," he hisses.

He is evidently not able to speak with the sergeant anymore, so he turns to me:

"How can I make him meet me, Don Diego, face to face? How can I make him come out of his hiding?"

"Usually," I say with hesitation, "people trying to catch the Fox used some innocent victims as the bait. Even I was such bait ones," I remind the old plot from the Eagle's time, when I was too blind to see how dangerous the beautiful _commandante's _wife was. I hardly managed to get away that time... Sergeant Garcia turns red and shifts uncomfortably in his chair. He made me into the trap that time. I forgot it as soon as I was free, but I guess he never forgave himself... For a moment our eyesights cross. I smile to him as friendly as I can, but he lowers his head.

There is no other way I could comfort him right now, so I just continue:

"When innocent lives are at risk, he always comes to rescue them."

"How disgusting!" Capitán Barcelo shivers. "There is always a way to defeat an enemy with courage and technique, not with the mean deception and harming the innocents. There must be some other way."

"_El Zorro_ only rides to fight against the injustice," I say gently. It is more than the answer to his question; I almost plead him to understand my mission and to abort his.

But the dashing, disciplined soldier does not understand.

"There must be some way, and I will find it," he promises, clenching his fists.

* * *

When we say goodbye and Capitán Barcelo is already on the patio, mounting his horse, Sergeant Garcia still lingers in the room. He looks at me with unusual attention and I can see deep confusion on his face.

"Strange thing, Don Diego," he says finally, "If I had to compare the Fox to someone..."

"Yes, Sergeant?" I encourage him with the serene smile, though my heart beats a little faster.

"Eee... nothing, Don Diego, nothing... Stupid thoughts. It has just been a long day." The confusion disappears from his face, making place for his normal, languorous smile. "Good night, Don Diego."

Good night, indeed!...


	2. No smoke without fire

**No smoke without fire**

"Oh, it is so romantic!" exclaimed dreamily Carmelita, Barcelo's niece, closing her eyes with delighted smile.

"Romantic?" asked sharply her uncle.

We were sitting in our hacienda, eating dinner, and of course talking about Zorro. It is the only subject that interests our capitán, although now he seemed surprised by the direction of the conversation.

"Yes.. The lonely rider in the night... Dashing and chivalrous... and..."

"He is the bandit. The renegade. The traitor," Capitán Barcelo cut her off.

"From what I've heard, he only protects the weaker and harmed. That's what all the people in the pueblo say! They all love him!" Carmelita defended herself a little abashed.

"I am afraid your charming niece is right, Capitán," said my father with a smile. "Citizens of Los Angeles have much respect for the Fox. They won't be eager to cooperate with you."

"I have already noticed it," sighed heavily Barcelo. Announcing the aim of his mission didn't bring him much popularity in the pueblo.

Young Carmelita however, unmoved by her uncle's troubles, returned to her day-dreaming:

"Oh, how I would like to meet him one day!..."

Rosa put her glass away a bit too loud whereas Capitán Barcelo pierced his niece with menacing eyes, but she didn't notice it and asks curiously:

"Tell me, does he have a _novia_?"

Suddenly, the anger of Capitán Barcelo faded and on his place appeared calculation:

"That is the thought! If he courts a girl, we could use her to lead us to him... A young, dashing man must have here some ladylove..."

My body tensed, just as before the fight. The smallest thought of drawing Rosa under the clouds that hang over me...

"We have never heard about something like this," I said cautiously.

"Oh, no, Don Diego, he had a romance once, in Monterey, don't you remember?" exclaimed Sergeant Garcia, who was sitting quietly the whole evening, feeling uncomfortably as usual in the company of Capitán Barcelo. This time it was me who invited the sergeant – just to gently remind our noble capitán, that Garcia is also a welcomed guest in the _hacienda_ and my friend. I think that the sergeant didn't understand half of the ironic remarks that Barcelo directed under his address, but the other half was enough to faze him out. So, I invited the Sergeant to hearten my old friend a little. Now I regretted it.

"Really?" asked eagerly Capitán Barcelo and Carmelita holded her breath with excitement.

"Yes, with Senorita Verdugo, the loveliest lady in the town. He was so smitten with her! The whole Monterey spoke about it!"

For the first time in my life I cursed Sergeant Garcia for being such a prattler.

How easy for him to drool this nonsense! He will say goodbye and leave – while I will have to stay and deal with my sweet lady...

My father must have felt some compassion toward me, as he tried to smooth the story:

"Really, Sergeant, I think you are exaggerating a little. The whole affair wasn't so..."

"But I know what I am talking about, Don Alejandro! I was there! I saw them with my own eyes! I even saw them kiss once! Oh, it was indeed so romantic, Senorita," he turned to Carmelita with slobbery expression.

I could skin him alive. I wonder how romantic he would find that.

My father threw me a half curious, half scandalized look and his expression clearly showed that he was not going to try to help me anymore. _You have led yourself into this, young man, so now you have to deal with it – _I almost could hear him saying.

I did not dare to look at Rosa's face, but I could see that she was ordering the cutlery near her plate with great involvement. Especially the knives.

I vengefully promised not to drink with Sergeant Garcia for the next month. Or maybe even two.

"So, how did it finish?" asked impatiently Barcelo.

"Oh, well..." the sergeant saddened, "It just finished. They stopped seeing each other for some reason."

"But why?" exclaimed Carmelita with disappointment. I guess that she was hoping for some more... romantic ending: wedding and happiness ever after...

"Maybe he is very ugly under that mask," Rosa shrugged lukewarmly her shoulders, but I saw vengeful sparks in her eyes.

"I am sure that he is not!" sobbed Carmelita like a little child deprived of a toy. "I am sure that he is the most..."

Rosa looked absently around, as if searching for something to quiet the perisher fly.

It was the highest time to take control over the conversation, before Barcelo explodes or that fool sergeant reminds himself of some other stupid story...

"However he may look, we cannot see it now, and I suppose that we will not have the chance to discover it until the capitán catches him," I said bowing toward Barcelo with a smile. "As for now, we have other topics to discuss. For example, have you any idea what _Magistrado_ Peraza is planning tomorrow?"

"_Magistrado_? What are you talking about, Don Diego?" asked Barcelo.

"The _magistrado _invited us for the meeting tomorrow at the pueblo," answered my father, "but he didn't reveal the subject of the meeting. Besides, he invited not only us, but all _haciendados_, who own major ranchos."

"Very intriguing," muttered the capitán, apparently not very interested in the subject. Only _el Zorro _has his undivided attention

The conversation then run smoothly from one topic to another, but my sweet lady was rather absent minded, which made me feel very unsure...

When our guests left, I returned to the sala full of worst premonitions. To my surprise, Rosa wasn't waiting for me with anything heavy or sharp in her hand, only calmly watching through the window.

"That little lamb, Carmelita," she finally said quietly, "she knows nothing, what does it mean to wait at night for the return of the lonely rider..."

I had no words for it. I only took her hand and kissed it. Rosa turnsed to me with a jaunty smile: "But one thing agrees: it is definitely very romantic."

And she cuddles herself in the armchair like a very satisfied cat.

What an unexpectedly peaceful end of the evening! With relief, I sat comfortably near her, poured myself some wine and closed my eyes, resting and half-dreaming. Home, quiet, my beloved lady in front of me... Who could ask for anything more?

Suddenly I heard a question, asked in an unsettlingly sweet voice:

"Now, Diego, please, tell me about Monterey... Tell me, what was the whole town talking about?..."

* * *

On the next day we arrived to the pueblo a bit too early, so I decided to pay a short visit to Sergeant Garcia – just to catch up with the latest news from the cuartel. My intuition was right, as I found him digging through the cuartel's archives.

"Capitán Barcelo demanded all the reports concerning _el Zorro._ These are hundreds of pages, Don Diego!" complained the poor sergeant, kneeling before the lowest shelf and arduously moving his big body in search for some volume.

Ha, finally. The reports.

"And how are you proceeding with the task, Sergeant?" I asked lightly.

"Oh, I am almost done, Don Diego!" he waved in the direction of the pile of documents lying on the desk. "I just need to find last few months... They must be somewhere here... They must..." he honed, fighting with the dusty folders.

"Would you mind if I scour them? I was always interested on what grounds Monastario built this ridiculous case against me, and since these documents are already at hand…"

"Oh, please, Don Diego! These were easy to find! _El commandante _always kept his archives in perfect order!"

On the contrary to Sergeant Garcia, as I see... I am not particularly happy with that fact. I took the documents, quickly searching for the oldest ones.

The reports were rather harmless – just presentation of the events, of course appropriately biased: to present Monastario as the devoted and brave commander and his victims – as mean traitors. Well, no surprises. There was nothing in their content that could be particularly dangerous for me. Yet, there were later Monastario's notes on the margins, and they clearly pointed in the direction of his suspicions; _"de la Vega was there just before", "de la Vega appeared all of the sudden just after", "theoretically, de la Vega was there but no one recalled seeing him", "of course de la Vega wasn't there"..._

And finally there was a bill of indictment that Monastario must have prepared just before my arrest. I quickly skimmed the regular lines of his elegant writing. It was just... terribly cogent.

_To start with, the first appearance of el Zorro occurred just after Don Diego de la Vega's mysterious return form Spain. His first offenses always involved friends or servants of the de la Vega family... On more than one occasion we lost the trail of the Fox just near the de la Vega hacienda... El Zorro was provided with the information that could be acquired only by the member of the upstanding landowner's family... Don Diego de la Vega was absent during all the appearances of the Fox, even if on some occasions his presence would be not only natural, but also absolutely required, the key example being the trial of his own father... Don Diego de la Vega fought before my eyes like the most inapt swordsman, yet his opponent was unable to disarm him or hurt in any way..."_

How long will I be haunted by that man? He probably sits now in some prison, or penal colony, and yet he still manages to cause me troubles... It was so naïve of me to hope that Capitán Barcelo will trifle those reports! Knowing his logic, his analytical abilities, when he reads it, I will need no less than a miracle to quash his suspicions. For a moment I thought about destroying at least the bill, but Sergeant Garcia already found it, laid it on the table... If some documents would mysteriously disappear after my visit, it would be like drawing big Z just in the middle of my temple.

A shadow of irritation must have appeared on my face, as the sergeant, all in dust and cobwebs, rose from behind the shelves and asked:

"So, what did he write? Something worried you, Don Diego?"

"Oh no, on the contrary. They are rather funny," I smiled as cheerfully as I can, though my mood was rather gloomy. Yet, there was nothing else to do than put the documents back, bid the farewell with the sergeant and head for the meeting with the _magistrado_.

* * *

The meeting was going to take place in the tavern, closed for other guests that morning. The _magistardo_ must have prepared something special indeed, if he decided to hire the whole place for this occasion. The sala was already arranged, with only one long table in the middle. On the wall hung a big map of California and _Magistrado_ Peraza paced nervously up and down in front of her, from time to time throwing glances at the unknown man with long beard sitting quietly in the corner.

When I entered the sala, most of the other _haciendados_ were not present yet, so I took my place and waited. Damián Peraza threw me lothing glance – I knew that he didn't approve the fact that one of the honorable seats falls to the man of no merits, except from noble name and wealthy father. I do not blame him for his feelings. Partially, I even share them.

In spite of his nervousness, _Magistrado_ Peraza looked very imposing today, wearing black suit and white tie. He usually wears black – to stress the solemnity of his office and, as I suspect, because he looks quite impressive in black, with his uncommonly fair eyes and hair, a bit longer than the today's fashion dictates. It crossed my mind, that in comparison to him I looked quite silly in a pink suit and bright scarf. I would prefer black too…

I smiled and for a moment fancied the idea of _Magistrado_ Peraza being the Fox. He would do well – brave, skilled, determined. Isn't it an appealing concept? Righteous judge during the day and, for those who managed to escape the justice, implacable revenger during the night. Maybe I should seriously consider retirement? Of course he would be a much more serious Zorro than me_. _No stupid antics, no jokes with hanging the "Z" flag in the cuartel, no birthday songs for Sergeant Garcia, no pitch baths for the lancers...

My deliberations were interrupted by the arrival of Don Augustin Carillo.

"You have sentenced my _vaquero_ to be flogged today, _Magistrado_," he said accusingly, but Damián only shrugged his shoulders.

"He accosted the girl, Annarita Montoya. It is a fair punishment."

"I know, but he did her nothing! Her brothers scared him away! And so you will make him unable to work for week at least."

"Had he raped her, he would be hanged," replied the _magistrado_ obliviously.

"Just ask him to pay the fine, _Magistrado_," I said lightly. "It will be the worst punishment for him, not to be able to afford for the visits in the tavern for a few weeks. And there will always be a few more pesos for the office."

"Whatever you may think, Senor de la Vega," he turned on me his cold, blue eyes, "justice is not to be bought by money. He will be flogged today."

So, he will be. The vaquero deserves his punishment and I am not going to disturb it, even if I do not like when imposing the justice involves splitting the blood. As contrasted to _Magistrado_ Peraza, as I see.

I imagine him as _el Zorro _again, and this time I see all the mortal thrusts I could give, yet didn't, as I do not consider myself the judge of life and death. If Damián Peraza were Zorro, many people who now live, would be dead. Maybe that is what they really deserved. I do not know. He thinks he does. So, let's better leave the Fox just as he is – with all the jokes, songs and laughter...

I was still deep in my thoughts, when all the guests arrived and the _magistrado_ began to speak.

"Senores! I decided to invite today all the exquisite landowners in Los Angeles, to present to you an idea that may bring a new era to all of you, to Los Angeles and maybe even to all California."

I tensed. I do not like when someone speaks about the new era for California, it reminds me too much about the Eagle's times.

_Magistrado_ Peraza gave the suitable introduction, referring several times to the "development" and "future benefits". He is usually very outspoken, but this time in his voice sounded uncommon engagement. I could feel that whatever he is driving at, it is very important to him. Finally he concluded:

"And the main obstacle for this land to flourish is water. Or rather – lack of it."

Water? That is the surprise! Certainly, he is right – but I really didn't expect our brave judge, our exquisite swordsman to speak about water!

The _magistrado_ made a short break and, having concluded that he has the full attention of all astonished guests, he invited the bearded stranger to stand near him.

"Senores, I propose you the participation in the great undertaking, that may change this land and turn the desert into fertile garden. May I present you Professor Hernán Altamirano, famous geologist, who gave lectures at the best universities in Europe and now is going to apply his knowledge in praxis, for the benefits of our land."

Quiet rustles through the sala, when surprised Dons whispered among themselves. I was impressed by the reverend guest too, of course – but the skeptical imp in me murmured: _What is the famous scientist doing in that small, dusty pueblo?_

Damián Peraza moved back and Professor Altamirano started to speak:

"Senores, I can see that you all are men with many duties, so I will be speaking shortly, without wasting your time with unnecessary details. During my studies I managed to develop a new, revolutionary way of finding deep groundwater. I promise you to find new deposits on your lands that will secure more recourses than necessary for your cattle, crops and vineyards. The cost of the research is not low, but if you will cover it, you will be able to make dozens of wells on your lands, so that you will never have to be afraid of the drought again."

Quite short, indeed. Well, my time may be wasted with the details.

"That is a fascinating and very promising perspective, Professor," I said with the most polite smile. "Could you introduce us a little into your method?"

"That is quite complicated, but I will try, Senor. The main assumption is, that the position of deposit can be foreseen by the special marks of the terrain, soil, even vegetation."

"Forgive me, Professor, but that is quite common assumption. That is how we all look for the right places to dig the wells."

The _haciendados_ nodded, and the _magistrado_ threw me an angry glance. To my surprise, his second angry glance went to the Professor Altamirano, who continued a little insecurely.

"The assumption is the same, the difference lays in the more effective ways of researches made on the surface. Thanks to the specialized equipment, I am able to penetrate the ground in the depth of many feet and practically prepare the maps of the groundwater."

There was a little turmoil in the sala – the idea of mapping the groundwater is definitely appealing to the _rancheros_.

"That is just compelling, Professor!" I exclaimed. "How many feet? And what kind of equipment gives such possibilities?"

Was he getting slightly irritated? Why, I was only admiring his knowledge. And to appreciate it fully, I would like to understand it...

"Senor," he replied, with hesitation, "I have some schemes with me, but forgive me, these are rather for such bookworms like me, not a brave, young caballero like you. Men of action are not to poor over some…"

In spite of their excitement, rancheros began to laugh. I felt however, that they do not laugh at me, only at the professor.

"You couldn't possible have chosen worse for such comparison, Senor," exclaimed Don Augustin, patting friendly my shoulder to show that he meant no offense.

Professor Altamirano was now quite confused and looked at me with a silent question.

"Senor?... I didn't mean to..."

"Oh, that is all right, Professor. I am definitely not a geologist," I answered with a cheerful smile. "But I would love to see the schemes, if you do not mind..."

"Of course..." mumbled the professor, unrolling the large sheets of paper with the schemes of some devilish machine, consisting of hundreds circles, leverages and gears – and huge gong in the middle. Apparently he was right – I couldn't make heads or tails out of it. The professor tried to explain, but it only darkened the picture.

"So the main source of information are vibrations?" I repeated his explanations, trying to order them. "But in which part of this machine are these vibrations are received? Because it just ends..."

There was only one thing I could state thanks to this conversation: the more explanations Professor Altamirano had to give, the more confused he was.

_Magistrado_ Peraza listened to us with growing irritation and finally interrupted:

"_Por favor_, Don Diego, there is no use to continue! You lack the basic knowledge of the subject, it would take ages to explain! Let's just decide what to do with that discovery, instead of analyzing it!"

Well, that wasn't very wise of him. You shouldn't tell your future business partner that he has no basic knowledge of the subject. It is very... discouraging. I discreetly looked around: the first ardor of the _haciendados_ partially gave place to the dejection and they were not so eager to invest in Professor Altamirano's machine anymore.

Yet, I may be wrong. This all may be true.

"I agree, _Magistrado_," I nodded to his surprise. "Let's not talk about it anymore. Let's test it."

"Test it? But it is not built yet!" Professor blinked totally confused.

"Well, so maybe you will prepare some prototype... on a smaller scale... If it works, I am sure that we all would be delighted with the possibility of supporting your work..."

"We will be expecting the results of your work with great impatience. You managed to raise our hopes, Professor," my father concluded with polite smile, yet it was the end of the meeting. He looked around, but the _haciendados_ only nodded – they will be waiting for his decision. And – he will be waiting for mine. It means, that rather unexpectedly, I became quite an important man for _Magistrado_ Peraza... The _magistrado_ was piercing me with a furious glance. He definitely hoped for more concrete conclusion of the meeting. Now he has one more reason to dislike me...

We already left the tavern, when a sudden idea came to my mind. I returned to the sala, trying to behave natural, yet as quiet as possible. The magistrado and professor were busy with collecting maps and schemes, so I managed to overhear a bit of their conversation.

"You didn't sound too convincing, Professor," Damián hissed angrily.

"How could I know that I will run across some local know-all?"

"That is not the point! The point is that you sounded as if you didn't know what you are talking about! Even I wouldn't be persuaded by such explanations!"

Angry silence fell between, so I moved the door, letting them hear me.

"Don Diego? What else can we do for you?" asked Peraza, not hiding the irritation.

"I was just wondering, whether Professor Altamirano could borrow me his schemes? I would gladly study them more exactly at home."

"I am sorry, Senor... I have only one copy," replied the professor with apologizing smile.

"I understand. Well, thank you for the most instructive conversation. It was the pleasure. Senores," I bowed and was about to leave, when the _magistrado_ stopped me:

"Don Diego... I hope you do understand, how important that initiative may be for the whole community... and that you will not obstruct it because of personal animosity with us..."

"So you are implying that there is a personal animosity between us, _Magistrado_? I am very sorry to here it, I wasn't aware of it," I said innocently. "However, let me assure you, that the welfare of this community is my first concern..."

He looked at me angrily, obviously not mislead by my polite tone.

"You do not seem to contribute much to this welfare, Don Diego. At least do not disturb when someone else does."

"If he does, _Magistrado,_" I corrected him with a smile and left, fully aware of his furious glance piercing my back.

* * *

"And what do you think?" asked my father, when I joined him in the carriage.

"About that revolutionary method? I really do not know, Father. I guess I am not bookish enough," I smiled, but he only waved his hand.

"No, what do you think about them?"

"Well, it seems that Damián does not have so much respect for Senor Altamirano, as he declared, yet he still called him 'professor', when they were alone. And the professor certainly has problems with clear presentation of his thoughts, but again - it is rather common among the men of science."

"It is hard to believe, that our _magistrado_ would participate in some mean deception."

"Exactly. And yet – things are not always what they seem to be. We should know that the best, Father," I smiled and he nodded.

"Let's just wait and see. There might be a lot of good for us all from this undertaking. But..."

"But I think Zorro will pay the visit in the professor's room tonight. You know, just in case," I smiled again, enjoying the perspective of the night's escapade, but my father seemed to be absent-minded and after the moment of silence he said:

"Maybe he shouldn't... With Capitán Barcelo trying so hard to get any clue..."

"The presence of the capitán is the reason to behave as usual, Father. He may not get the impression, that the Fox was warned..."

"Just be careful," sighed my father unconvinced.

* * *

In spite of the warning I eagerly prepared myself for the night escapade. I do like night. I do like darkness. I do like dancing with shadows...

"Would you enjoy the ride, Tornado?" I asked him, expecting the satisfied whicker. Instead, Tornado avidly sniffed out my hands and pockets.

"No, no dainties tonight, my friend! You are just spoilt by a certain lady!" I reprimanded him, and he snorted angrily, yet rushed into the night with excitement.

Professor Altamirano was eating his supper with the _magistrado_ and talking to some _rancheros_, so I could calmly search his room. Some clothes, a lot of books – geography and geology – even some tools and instruments... I felt a bit ashamed of my suspicions. It seemed that he was really a scientist, even if a bit shy and uncommunicative. Nevertheless, it didn't mean that his theory is true. We will have to wait and see the results of the test. As for now, there is nothing to do for Zorro, so I went back to Tornado and left the pueblo.

However, my adventures in that evening only began. On the Camino Real just after the town I met Capitán Barcelo. It surprised me – we didn't schedule the meeting for tonight, why should he be riding toward our hacienda? What was more, he was alone and looked anxiously around, as if he had lost something.

Some strange impulse took me out of shadows, so that I let him see me.

When he noticed me, he stopped and tensed. He was wise enough not to try to get near me, only stared at me, alert, almost fascinated. I looked at him also, as if I didn't know him. No, it was not only that I tried to delude him. It was that... everything looks a bit different from behind the mask. More... real. When there are no rules, no limits that your face, and name put on you...

Tornado danced for a moment in the moonlight and then we disappeared in shadows.

I understood that this short silent meeting defined a new stage in our acquaintanceship. Dancing around has ended, it is time to start the real game... I knew he must be feeling the same.

El Camino Real was today full of surprises... Quite near to our hacienda I found the reason of Barcelo's night excursion – his niece was marching along the road, browsing anxiously around. She seemed to be scared to death and near tears. I rode to her slowly, to not to frighten her even more:

"_Buenas noches_, _Senorita_! What are you doing here alone?"

She jumped, but then crew with evident joy:

"Zorro! I met you!"

"Apparently you did," I couldn't help but smile, "but you shouldn't be here. Your uncle seems to be looking for you..."

"I left him a note that I am going for a walk to the de la Vega hacienda."

"For a walk?..." I repeated startled.

Such a distance, in darkness... Barcelo must have been dying of angst. However, his little niece explained with fair smile:

"I was hoping I may meet you in the darkness... And I did!"

She stared at me with such admiration, that I felt a little unsure.

"_Senorita_, there are plenty things here that you may meet in the darkness, and most of them are rather unpleasant..." I explained a bit irritated.

"Oh, but I didn't meet any of them... I met you!" she stated merrily, not taking her eyes of me. I might be flattered, if I wasn't so preoccupied with wondering how to deliver her as discreetly and quickly as possible in some safe place. We were already nearer the hacienda than Barcelo... and I doubted that he would welcome me with open hands, if I brought him his niece from the night ride.

"All right, _Senorita_, I will take you to the de la Vega hacienda. Tell them to send someone to your uncle as soon as possible. And never, ever walk at night alone again, will you remember?" I tried to appeal to her reason, but she seemed to be so excited with the perspective of the ride, that she hardly listened.

I sighed and sat her on Tornado, who this time was unusually dissatisfied with the double burden. Really, I do not know what Rosa did to this horse! Luckily, the hacienda was already near. I left her just before the gate, saying quickly, "Good bye, _Senorita_," and disappeared in the darkness with such haste, as if Sergeant Garcia with all his lancers was just behind me.

* * *

Until I managed to return from the cave and change my clothes, Capitán Barcelo was already in the hacienda, he and Carmelita sitting with Rosa in the sala. He must have rebuked his niece for the escapade, as the mood was rather gloomy, but I had the impression that she didn't tell him about our encounter.

Capitán Barcelo welcomed me with a usual polite smile, yet I could see that he was very despondent.

"Something is bothering you, Capitán?" I ask, but he waved his hand resigned:

"Almost everything, Don Diego! It has been a terrible day, from the very beginning till the end. Would you allow me to use your library? I need some good lecture to lighten my spirit."

"With pleasure," I led him to the next room. The capitán started to browse the shelves, glancing through one book after another, searching for a suitable lecture.

I stayed behind him, near the doors, so I noticed that as soon as we left the room, Carmelita leant toward Rosa with enlivenment:

"Now I can tell you, what wonderful adventure I had tonight! I met Zorro!"

I stiffened. Great. That is how one's being punished for his good intentions.

I could hear Rosa replying with sudden interest:

"Oh really? That is fascinating! Come here, my dear, tell me everything!"

Carmelita moved to the sofa near her and started to whisper. I saw Rosa's eyebrows raising - and there was nothing, exactly nothing I could do, except watch them from distance and listening to nagging of Capitán Barcelo.

"How can I gather information, when vaqueros leave the tavern when I enter? Suddenly no one recalls anything about that man! And yet when I wanted to made a siesta, someone woke me up singing some damn song about the Fox just before my windows! Then my niece suddenly fancies night walks. And finally, what happens, just to crown the day? That black bastard shows off just before my nose! And that is not all..."

I shook my head with compassion, but my whole attention was with the women in the next room. I looked and swallowed anxiously. How could they whisper so long after such a short ride?

"... not a sheet of paper from the whole six months!"

"Excuse me, Capitán? You were saying?" I turned to him a bit unsettled.

"I was saying, that this stupid sergeant has such a mess in his archives, that they are just useless! I asked him to find me all the records about Zorro, and specifically the reports concerning his first appearances. You understand, Don Diego, at the beginning he must have been learning his role, he was unsure, maybe he made some mistakes... I did count on it! And that incompetent elephant just lost them! Exactly those!"

What? My eyes narrowed in disbelief, as I clearly remembered the neat pile of papers lying on the desk. I didn't take them... Is it possible, that Sergeant Garcia managed to lose the significant part of them on the short way between the archives and Barcelo's office? Well, I am the last one to complain on his muddle. I guess that I have more luck than I deserve...

"... oh, he is so incredible, Dona Rosa, I could do anything..." I could hear feverish whispers of Carmelita.

Anything? Is it possible that it includes poking around her uncle's documents?

"... and it was so romantic!..."

What was romantic, for Heaven's sake? I think my luck is over.

"Don Diego?... Don Diego, I would take these, if you do not mind," Capitán Barcelo approached me with a stack of books.

"Of course. Be my guest, Capitán."

Luckily the capitán wanted to return to the pueblo, as I wasn't sure how I would handle the conversation. When we said farewell to them, I could almost feel clouds gathering over me, just in the point where my sweet lady stood... As soon as they left, she turned on me dark glance

"Rosita, I couldn't just leave her. She was there alone, lost, it was dark..." I tried to reason, but I couldn't count on an understanding audience.

"Oh what a poor thing!" she hissed without a shadow of compassion. "Next time, when you feel like being chivalrous, consider it twice! Because if I hear once more about _el Zorro _carrying on horseback some little sweet senorita I am moving to my father's house!"

"Rosita..."

She turned back on the spot so that her dress swirled around her and rushed to her room without a word. However, just in the middle of the stairs, the whole energy seemed to leave her. She sat on the stairs, crouches and sobbed:

"Oh, she is so slim..."

And how could anyone reason with it?

Perhaps Zorro really shouldn't ride for some time... There are too many dangers waiting for him in the darkness than he can handle...

* * *

On the next day I could see the results of my night encounter with the capitán doubled his eagerness to complete his task.

When I visited the pueblo, I noticed Sergeant Garcia pinning some announce at the wall of the tavern.

"What is it Sergeant?" I asked. "A new bandit is wanted?"

"Oh no, Don Diego. We are just changing the wanted posters for Zorro."

"Changing?..."

Sergeant Garcia moved back and I could see the same search warrant I am so used to, only with doubled reward.

"Four thousand pesos?" I asked incredulously, trying to hide satisfaction. It is so nice to be appreciated...

"Capitán Barcelo's orders. He says he wouldn't neglect any way," explained Sergeant Garcia with despondent sigh. I could see that he is under the spirit, so I tried to console him a little.

"Do not worry, Sergeant. Whatever he does, I am sure that you, and no one else, will catch the Fox. So, that is good for you," I pointed the new poster, "your reward has just doubled!" I laughed, but Sergeant Garcia didn't seem to be comforted.

"It is not that, Don Diego," he said gloomy. Strange – usually mentioning the reward was enough to brighten his mood. "It is just... well, I got used to him... I mean – Zorro... We went through quite a lot together... And now – with Capitán Barcelo so determined – I have the feeling that his days are numbered..."

I hate to admit it, but his mood influenced me somehow. I couldn't find any witty response, only pat his shoulder.

"Do you think it will work, Capitán?" I asked Barcelo, who approached us in that moment.

"I do not know... Maybe... I just do not want to neglect anything," he explained, but I could see that something else was preoccupying him. The explanation was quick to come, as he took us aside and asked:

"How do you think, sergeant, Don Diego, how can one pass the message to the Fox? How the information reach him?"

"Usually it is enough to say something, and the Fox knows it," explained the sergeant with his normal trust in my abilities. Barcelo looked at us incredulously.

"What do you mean: 'to say something'? You want to tell me, that if I speak right know to you about something, he knows it?"

Well... to tell the truth... yes?...

"In the tavern, Capitán," I explained with a chuckle. "I would advise you to say it aloud in the tavern."

However, as I was rather anxious to hear it from the first hand, I asked quickly:

"But why, Capitán? What do you want him to know?"

"Well, I think I have found the way to make Zorro appear at the pueblo."

"Really? And that would be?...

"A little contest. Bowing, jumping, something like this, I am not sure yet. Very innocent. No more than some flowers as the reward. But I will announce it and invite all willing men. If he hears about it, I am sure he will come. And the lancers will be ready, waiting in suitable positions..."

Of course I will not. I never would risk in such stupid way. I am not some cocky idiot.

"Why are you so sure it will lure him?" I asked incredulously. "He will suspect the trap."

"You see, Don Diego, I tried to learn as much as I could about him... I think I have started to know what kind of man he is... Cocky risk-taker. He loves playing with danger... He has never left any challenge unanswered. He will suspect the trap, and that is exactly why he will come – to prove he can outsmart me..."

"Well, I wish you luck, Capitán! I will be there to watch it!" I smiled, a bit heartened.

Of course I will be there, sitting calmly on the tribunes with my wife and watching the show. As I said, I would never risk by taking part in such competition, especially now, when I was warned. No way.

Only that...

When he put it that way...

I would like to win this contest. I would like that very much.


	3. Who lives by the sword 1

**Who lives by the sword (1)**

I stay calmly under the window, waiting for the moment when my father will have to stop his tirade to take a breath. Rosa and Bernardo sit quietly like two mice on the couch, watching our conversation with curiosity and certain amusement, as if they were in the theater. And my father, showing the best of the de la Vega temper, is pacing up and down the sala and yelling... well, expressing his discontent with my timid suggestion:

"You cannot take part in than contest, Diego! I absolutely forbid you! Such stupidity! How could you even for a moment consider..." he must take a breath so I shyly interject:

"But Father, this is the matter of principles..."

"Principles? Your stupid pride, not principles! It is not a duel! When del Amo called you out I was the last one to object the fight, but this? For Heaven's sake, Diego, you are not some hot-headed boy any more! You have the responsibilities, you have family to think of! You tell him, my Dear!" he turns to Rosa.

Well, so my father calls for the heaviest artillery... I have no chances, so I better give up until I can do it saving some dignity.

"Father, I was merely considering..." I start, when Rosa interrupts me:

"He must take part in it," she replies to my father who stays stunned, just as I do.

"I beg your pardon?" he asks after the moment, totally thrown off the balance.

"Barcelo is right. Zorro never left the challenge unanswered, even suspecting the trap," Rosa explains calmly, as if she was speaking to a child. "Why should he do it now?"

"Because now it is different!" my father almost shouts. "It is too risky! Now we know what kind of man is Barcelo! How determined, how intelligent, precise, perceptive he his! Now we know he is just too dangerous, to..."

"Exactly. We know it," finishes Rosa. My father looks at her uncertainly, but I already understand.

"Diego de la Vega knows it, Father," I say slowly. "And you have just said that the capitán is perceptive."

My father stays silent for a moment. He already knows we are right, yet still he tries to use the last arguments:

"But you promised to be there, to watch the show with him. How can you excuse your absence just in the very same moment when Zorro appears?"

"Just leave it to me," Rosa smiles with her very cat-like smile and Bernardo waves his hand, as if he wanted to add, 'And to me too, please!'

"All right then," sighs my father giving up. "But if you really have to participate in this damn contest, at least win it."

* * *

On the day of the tournament Rosa and I arrive punctually to the pueblo to meet Barcelo and his niece in front in the tavern. My father is going to watch the show too, but I asked him to sit with his friends. Sometimes he just... not good enough with hiding his emotions to conceal them before our perceptive capitán.

The plaza is already crowded – during the last week Barcelo was carefully spreading the gossips that he especially counts for the participation of _el Zorro, _so many onlookers came enticed not so much with the tournament itself, but to see if the masked rider will dare to take Barcelo's challenge.

The competition is going to take place in the middle of the plaza. Barcelo finally decided on bowing, after my small suggestion that it will catch the interest of many participants in Los Angeles, including natives, whose abilities to use that weapon are sometimes just amazing. It is of course true, but my real agenda was a bit different – I preferred the discipline that can be executed from a certain distance.

Barcelo has no idea that the show I prepared for him begins even before the tournament starts. When we are calmly heading for the tribunes, Rosa – who wasn't hiding her bad mood since we arrived at the pueblo - suddenly stops:

"Diego – I forgot my shawl from the tavern."

I looked around and she adds irritated:

"The tavern, Diego! Have you suddenly forgotten where it is?"

"I am not looking for a tavern, only for Bernardo," I explain weary. "I will send him..."

"And why cannot you just go yourself? Is it too far?" she snickers and I answer quickly:

"No, of course not. I will meet you at the tribunes," and leave.

No. I don't change into my black outfit yet. I just bring the shawl from the tavern and sit between Rosa and Barcelo.

The tournament is already to begin and the competitors wait in the appointed place, looking anxiously at the target shield. The reward – which is indeed the bunch of flowers – is so wisely fastened over it, that the end of the rope holding it runs over the whole plaza and then through the target shield. If anyone of them manages to hit the rope with the arrow, it will break and the flowers will land exactly before the winner. But it is easier said than done. Placing the arrow so precisely that it would cut the rope is definitely more difficult than just hitting the middle of the shield, so now the archers look at the barely visible rope with rather unsure faces. It was my concept too – just to make the contest more exciting. Now I feel a bit uncertain either. I am not sure whether I will be able to hit the rope - and in my case, it is about my reputation... Well, Zorro's reputation.

"Diego, I am thirsty. Could you bring me some water?" Rosa's voice breaks my observations.

"Of course. Something too eat to?"

"No, just water."

"But maybe... Rosita, I guess that in few minutes you will get hungry, so maybe I will better..." I ask a bit tired and she hisses with irritation:

"When I get hungry, I will ask you to bring me something to eat. Now I am not. And if you do not like the idea, that your wife is so absorbing, you should have thought about it earlier. It just happens so, that..."

"All right, all right, I am going," I rise quickly, noticing that Carmelita looks at Rosa a bit consternated but also with admiration and jealousy. For a moment I feel sorry for her future husband - apparently she finds the idea that men can be treated that way very appealing...

No, it is not time for Zorro yet. I do not go to Tornado, I just go for water – and return as soon as I can. Barcelo whispers to me with amusement:

"I give you ten minutes, until you will be going for some food... Let's better start it now, when you have a moment of relief..."

I smile to him helplessly, and the capitán opens the show.

The archers are good, even very good. Their arrows land in the middle of the shield, yet none of them manages to cut the rope, though some of them almost touch it. Barcelo gets so engaged with the contest that he would simply miss the appearance of his key guest. I have to poke him with my elbow:

"Look! He has come!" I point at the roof of the _cuartel_, where suddenly appeared the figure in the black outfit. When Barcelo raises his head, the masked man slowly draws the bow and aims at the shield.

The whole plaza freezes up in a dead silence. Even Barcelo doesn't call his lancers, only waits, holding his breath.

I was holding my breath too. If Bernardo hits, he will spoil me the show. I begged him a thousand times to miss, but he only nodded with his usual oh-I-am-so-innocent smile and I could see roguish sparks in his eyes.

The arrow flies through the air and lands just in the middle of the target. The rope, half cut, wavers, but the last thread keeps it in the position.

What a rascal, he was shooting to hit!

The shot breaks the spell of silence. People gathered on the plaza start to cheer, Barcelo shouts for his lancers and runs to his horse. Bernardo slips from the roof on the other side of the _cuartel_ and soon we can hear the rattle of horses' hoofs. When I see how quickly Barcelo's men start the pursuit, for a moment I feel a bit anxious. Bernardo couldn't take Tornado this time, as I will need him later on in the plaza, and people in the pueblo know Zorro's horse too well, so I could not use another stallion. However, Bernardo is riding the best black horse my father has in his stables, and lancers expected the Fox to appear on the plaza, not on the other side of the _cuartel_ – so my friend has a good start. Now it is time for me.

"Diego – now I am hungry," says Rosa loud enough for people around us to hear.

I nod and leave the tribunes. No, this time I am not going to return so soon. Instead, I quickly pass by the tavern and change my clothes in the small yard, where Tornado is patiently waiting for me hidden in the shadows.

When I – no, not I, only _el Zorro – _return to the plaza, people swirl in consternation, not knowing whether it is the end of the contest. Most of them, however, wait patiently on their seats to see the return of the capitán. They are all very excited and hardly hear the rattle of my horse, when I arrive at the place for the archers.

"Buenos dias, Senoras, Senores!" I shout to draw their attention. "I believe that during my first shot the wind blew from the side! I need the second shot to finish!"

Again for a moment the deadly silence falls on the plaza. It is clear that no one expected my return. I can see that the good people are just delighted that the show is not over yet – and now the Fox stays just in the middle of the plaza. The bolder ones shout to me encouragingly and I draw my bow.

Ah. Now it is only one thin thread. And the wind really blows.

I aim for a moment longer than I need – just to raise the tension. I guess that Rosa was a bit right, when she said that I have a little inclination to dramatic.

I release the arrow.

The thread breaks, cut just in the middle by the arrowhead.

The crowd outbursts with cheers. Even if not everyone in the pueblo is the friend of the Fox, now I can hear only the applause.

I catch the glimpse my father grinning so proudly, that if anyone was looking at him right now, my identity would be seriously endangered. However, everyone is looking at me.

I am surprised when the cheers silence rather quickly and I feel that the spectators wait for me to do something more. I have no idea what they expect, until I notice that Tornado starts to chew the bouquet of flowers that landed just in front of him.

The flowers. I guess I should give them to some pretty lady.

Of course I cannot give them to Rosa, but my sight unknowingly runs to her. She looks at me like everyone at the plaza, but when she catches my gaze, she slowly moves her eyes to Carmelita, who now almost jumps at her seat with excitement.

I know that she signs me to give the bouquet to Barcelo's niece. It would be quite understandable – Carmelita is definitely the prettiest of the young senoritas gathered on the plaza. And what a nice joke under Barcelo's address it would be! A little revenge for calling me out. However...

I smile with the sudden idea.

"Give me that, my friend," I say to Tornado. He looks at me with reproach, but raises his head giving me a little tousled bouquet.

I come near to the tribunes and lean before the little girl sitting between her parents in the first row.

"For you, little princess. For good luck," I say with a smile giving her the flowers.

The girl looks at me with open eyes and mouth and shyly takes the bouquets. The crowd once again outburst with applause. Well, I think I can be satisfied with the show. My honor is saved, the good people of Los Angeles had the most exciting contest since many months, and _Capitán_ Barcelo is just returning empty-handed with his lancers from the other side on the plaza. When he sees me in the middle of the pueblo, he stops absolutely confused.

"Till we meet again, Capitán!" I shout to him merrily, salute him and the people on the tribunes and turn Tornado to leave the plaza.

Of course the lancers start the second pursuit, but before they get on the other side of the plaza, I just stop Tornado in a side street and send him home, whereas I sneak through the backyards to the place where I left my clothes hoping to get there unnoticed, as all the citizens are gathered on the plaza. I am totally taken by surprise, when suddenly someone blocks my way, when I pass behind the _magistrado's_ office.

I recognize him immediately – it is Damián Peraza. Obviously, he was the only inhabitant of Los Angeles not interested in the contest and decided to stay in his office. Now he stands in front of me, keeping his hand on the hilt of his rapier, but is not attacking, only looking at me curiously:

"So, the famous Fox really exists! I must admit that till this moment I thought that you are only a legend," he says coldly.

"At your service, _Magistrado_!" I bow, also touching the hand guard of my weapon. Nevertheless, I would prefer to avoid the fight. Even if I wanted to try with him one day, now I just do not have time for that.

_Magistrado_ Peraza doesn't seem to be interested in fight either. He points at the direction of the plaza, from where we still can hear the applauses of the cheering crowd.

"The people – they seem to love you," he states as if he has just read a very interesting article in the newspaper.

"I managed to aim some recognition," I say cautiously, not knowing, what he is driving at. However, he only shrugs his shoulders, as if he suddenly lost interest in my person:

"Well, picking flowers is not forbidden, even if they grow on the tournament poles. If you want to fight me, I am ready. If not, just go your way."

"I have no quarrel with you, _Magistrado_," I say and he just turns his back to me and enters his office.

Strange man. Well, this time his indifference is really helpful. It is the high time for Diego de la Vega to reappear.

* * *

When I run into the plaza, the tribunes are half empty, though people are still staying in the small groups and discussing the events. Barcelo, who has given up the chase much sooner than I expected, has just sent lancers with Sergeant Garcia to the _cuartel_. I approach our ladies at the same second as he.

"Your _tamales._ I am sorry, I couldn't get to you earlier through that crowd," I say to Rosa giving her the small package.

"I am not hungry anymore," she says with irritation. "And I do not want _tamales. _I want to go home."

I don't blame her. I wouldn't like to eat cold _tamales_ either.

Rosa heads for our carriage and Barcelo looks at me with compassion:

"Bad day, huh? I am sorry for you, my friend. I had more luck. When my wife was expecting our twins, we were in Europe and I had a war to fight."

I only sigh heavily. Then feeling that I should repay for his compassion, I say consolingly:

"You had a bad day too, C_apitán_! I saw what happened. That rascal just got away?..."

"Oh, it wasn't absolutely in vain..." he says with an optimism I do not like. "At least now we know that he has an accomplice. Oh, Don Diego, do not look so astonished! When we lost his trail we were so far from the pueblo – he would never manage to return so much earlier than we! No, he must have an accomplice. A bit shorter than he," Barcelo adds with his usual precision.

Why cannot he just believe in the magic ability of _el Zorro _to appear in two places simultaneously? All good people in Los Angeles do!

"And he must have a place to hide at least two horses," continues Barcelo with consideration, bowing to my father, who just approached us. "It is not so easy to hide two so magnificent animals! I believe he must be a _ranchero_," he concludes.

When Barcelo leaves us, my father throws me an irritated glance saying: 'see what you have done?' I only shrug my shoulders. I did what had to be done, the best I could. Yet, I cannot shake the unpleasant feeling of the noose tightening around me.

* * *

At least Rosa is pleased with me. As soon as our carriage leaves the pueblo, the huffy expression disappears from her face; she throws herself on my neck, and kisses me not caring that I keep the horses' reins.

"What that was for?" I ask a bit surprised.

"For not giving the flowers to that little filly," she laughs.

"I have only one lady here," I answer with a smile. When I relate to her the talk with Barcelo, she says calmingly:

"Do not worry... Now you will stay quiet and cautious... You will only play the piano and lend him books... He will not get another clue."

Unfortunately, when the troubles come, they usually stay for long.

* * *

On the next day I ride to the pueblo to visit Barcelo and check the news. As soon as I enter the _cuartel_, I see the rather unusual view: on the yard Barcelo is practicing fencing with Damián Peraza, observed by the lancers gathered under the walls. I stay near Sergeant Garcia and watch the match with great interest.

Jose is good – I would even say: very good. But Peraza... It seems that he is losing, moving back, always defensive, without even trying to attack... It seems that he is slow and weak. It seems that Barcelo will disarm him in any second. However, I notice quickly that he is only playing with his opponent, prolonging the fight... when he could easily win... Just as I sometimes do. He is just... amazing.

"The capitán is going to win," notices quietly Garcia.

"On the contrary," I say, watching the competitors with fascination. "_Magistrado_ is just... well he is just much younger than the capitán," I finish clumsily, realizing just in time that I should not reveal my knowledge in the art of fencing.

The sergeant smiles with indulgence:

"Age means nothing, when it comes to skills... You cannot see it, Don Diego, as you lack experience, but..."

In that moment the sword suddenly flies far from Barcelo's hand. Even I didn't see it coming. Barcelo smiles reluctantly and raises the blade, but Peraza repeats the same trick in two seconds – with the same result. Third trial – and third spectacular failure of our capitán. This time he considers himself beaten and congratulates the _magistrado_ with rather long face, realizing that Peraza not only bested him, but also mocked a little.

"Incredible!" gasps Sergeant Garcia. "He is just... incredible! Don Diego, do you think he could beat Zorro?"

"I have no idea," I reply honestly, throwing the hungry glance on the basket with sabers and gloves. Right now, I would give a year of my life to try with the _magistrado_. However, I am fully aware of the fact, that if I would make a small fencing match with Damián right now, in front of my friend Barcelo, it would cost me much more of my life than one year.

Peraza sends the slack nod in my direction and intends to leave the yard, but suddenly he changes his mind:

"Don Diego," he says unusually politely – I guess that the won game must have put him in a good mood, "the first part of the equipment ordered by Professor Altamirano has just arrived. His men made a small camp two miles north from the pueblo. When they start the work on the machine, you may feel free to visit them and watch their progress."

"Thank you for the invitation, _Magistrado_, I gladly will," I reply with a bow. Of course I will, even sooner than he expects. Capitán Barcelo approaches us wiping the sweat from his temple. He must be reading my thoughts again, as he asks a bit absently:

"This machine? Do you think it may interest Zorro? Maybe he will come to see it as well?"

For a short moment he reminds me of Monastario – the poor capitán is becoming equally obsessive on the Fox as our famous ex-_commandante_. Luckily, Barcelo is the man of honor, not a twisted scoundrel.

"Zorro? Why?" asks Peraza a bit surprised.

"Well, Zorro is always interested in everything that happens in the pueblo," states Sergeant Garcia.

"You mean, Sergeant, that he always pokes his nose into affairs that are not his," snickers Barcelo. "But we could use it... We could set a trap... Oh, if I only could make him appear again!" he sighs. Peraza looks at him a little dubious and I cannot resist a little taunt:

"Do not worry, _Magistrado_. I am sure that if he learns the noble aim of your undertaking, he will definitely approve it.

"I do not need the outlaw's blessing," replies angrily Peraza, but it seems that something in this idea has struck him.

"Maybe you should, Senor," mumbles quietly the sergeant. Before Barcelo gets angry, I invite them for a dinner in the tavern. The sergeant naturally beams, but the capitán replies:

"Splendid idea, Don Diego, but right now I still have some business to discuss with the _magistrado_. If you please – can we meet in an hour?"

Ha, there is only one kind of business that interest our capitán! I am sure that he is planning to set a trap for Zorro near the camp of Altamirano's workers. Well, I am not going to wait for it – I will visit the camp this very evening.

We eat the dinner in a merry mood and then I ride quickly home, to prepare myself for the escapade.

* * *

I have decided to go to the camp through the hill's side tracks as I usually do when I wear the black outfit. It was a bit too early – I do not like riding in the sunlight, when black silhouettes of me and Tornado are so well visible, but I wanted to overhear the conversations of the workers before they go to sleep. However, when I almost reached the camp, something stopped me. To be more precise, I was stopped by the view of one on the peasant girls, who was sitting on the side of the road with her head hidden in her hands. When I arrived nearer, I notice that she was crying.

"Senorita," I ask cautiously, "What happened?"

"Zorro! Oh, Zorro, you must help me! Please! There is no one else, please!" she raises her head and I search my memory for her name... Yes, she is Annarita Montoya... the girl accosted by one of the vaqueros a week ago... Had he tried it again?...

"I will do what I can, but you must tell me what happened!" I ask persuasively.

"My brother... he challenged Alejo for a fight... But Alejo was flogged... he has no chances..."

"Alejo? The man who insulted you?..." I ask incredulously. "But he..."

"I do not want him to die!" she outbursts with sobs.

I will never understand women. But I do not want anyone to die – or be sentenced for murder – either. I can cool down a few befuddle heads tonight at the pueblo.

"I will do my best to prevent their fight," I promise her. "Where and when do they meet?"

"Behind the tavern, at sundown. Oh, please, go there! Please!"

Behind the tavern? What a strange place for a fight, the lancers might find them. But on the other hand – the tavern is the most popular meeting point for all vaqueros.

"Do not worry, senorita, no one will die tonight," I assure her. She seems a little heartened and agrees to go home and wait there.

* * *

There is still plenty of time till sundown, so I can calmly visit the camp of the Professor Altamirano's workers. At first I observe them from a distance and I see nothing unusual: a few tents, some big packages, wooden boards, iron stabs. Three men sit around the small fire and play cards. Their filthy clothes and even more filthy faces would rather suit to some _desperados_, but on the other hand, they didn't come here to participate in the beauty contest.

The camp is situated in the open field. Barcelo will have a difficult task with setting the trap here. I have a difficult task with finding suitable hiding near enough to hear their talk. Finally, I lay behind the big tuft of dry grass and listen.

"I pass."

"I am in – two pesos more – and check."

"Two pairs: tens and kings."

"Four nines."

"You bastard."

Sound of coins being moved on the table. Maybe they could finally start talking about something?

"Lucky bastard. Don't cry, Jaime, only deal the cards."

"Do you know how long are we staying here?"

"Is it you business? We are paid daily and that is all I care for. Hurry with the cards. There is still some money in your pocket that longs for me."

"It is my business, because if we stay long enough, I will score that girl from the tavern. Maria whatever. She made sweet eyes to me today."

I should have been more precise. Maybe they could finally start talking about something interesting?

"Sure, she did. You may score your mule, that's all."

"Shut up, Chaco, you are jealous, because no girl wants to even look at your lousy mug."

"Look at the mirror if you want to see the lousy mug."

My lids slowly became heavy.

"I have an approach to women, so they like me. I scored that barmaid in San Francisco."

"In your drunken dreams. Deal the cards."

"For me two."

"Three."

"One peso... and check."

Fascinating. Just fascinating. Mission worthy the Fox. I donned Zorro's outfit, sneaked through hills and crawled through the grass to learn that Chaco doubts the amorous conquests of his companion. At least I still have the lady in distress to help. More precisely – to save for her the man who tried to rape her from the brother defending her honor. What a day!

I am not especially interested how many pesos will change their owner tonight in the camp and the sundown is already near, so I leave my post and ride to the pueblo.

* * *

I ask Tornado to wait in the shadows of the _cuartel's_ walls and cautiously sneak to the tavern's yard. Just before entering through the small side gate I stop, struck by the... silence. It is just too quiet. True, the backyard is usually empty, apart from deliveries of supplies – or guests who arrived with their own carriages, but... if two vaqueros settled the fight here, there should already be some onlookers, at least few of their friends... Instead, the yard is empty, dark and so quiet that I could hear my own breath. There is something suspicious about it. I decided to cast one last glance and withdraw, when suddenly a loud shout broke the silence:

"Get down!"

Without thinking if these words were directed to me I instinctively throw myself on the ground and in the very same moment the unmistakable hiss of lasso cuts the air above my head.

"It is a trap!"

I have noticed so much. I roll aside on the ground to the shadows of the stables, hearing the muskets' fire and seeing the ground being ploughed by the bullets, just in the spot where I laid a second before.

Lasso and muskets. Apparently I cannot only not understand the women but also fail to notice when they lie. Rosa was right when she said that I should think twice before being chivalrous again.

Rosa. It was her voice.

The yard is already filled with lancers. I grab some board and push the nearest two under the feet of the others. The commotion gives me a second of time, so I quickly look at the tavern. Rosa is staying on the balcony – I vaguely remember that it belongs to Carmelita's room. Barcelo's niece is there, behind my wife, looking scared to death – but Rosa shovels her to the room, leans over the banister and shouts to me:

"Hurry, Fox! Through the west gate!"

_Dios_, what is she doing here? I have no time to think about it, as the yard is already filled with lancers. Luckily, even if Barcelo managed to hide them so smartly, he still couldn't make them move quicker than usual, what means that they move as snails. I jump over the old carriages and piles of wood, occasionally pushing the soldier who got too near to me on the ground, heading to the west gate. In the meantime, I whistle for Tornado.

Finally I see Barcelo. Apparently he is just struck by the unexpected betrayal of Rosa, who spoiled his trap, and cannot decide between throwing watchful glances on me and desperate on her.

He blocks my way to the gate, so I push the empty cart under the lancers behind me and draw my sword. Barcelo attacks me with admirable courage. I am not as malicious as the _magistrado_ to play games with my friend, neither do I have time for it, so I disarm him with one quick gesture, before our fight actually began, striking so strongly that he lands on the ground few feet before me. Tornado is already at the gate and I jump on him.

For a moment I stop looking at Rosa. She waves for me to run, but it is hard knowing that I leave her in rather big troubles. A few soldiers already look at her – luckily no one dares to aim at the Senora de la Vega. However, she has just openly come out against the King's Lancers to help an outlaw. She is in troubles – and _el Zorro_ cannot do anything to help her. Don Diego can. I rush Tornado into gallop and leave the pueblo quicker than wind.

* * *

I think I have never made the distance to the cave in such a short time. Even Tornado is tired, shivers and breathes heavily when we arrive. I throw his reins to Bernardo, and, ignoring his questioning glance, run through the passage. Luckily, my father waits for me in my room, so I can quickly relate him what happened while I am changing my clothes. I hoped he would be able to give me some explanations, but he only looks at me with widely open eyes.

"How did Barcelo managed to organize it? Obviously that girl was to send you into the trap, but how did they know where to find Zorro? And how Rosa learnt about it? What was she doing at the pueblo in the first place?"

"Father, to all these questions I have the same answer: I do not know," I answer slightly irritated. "I hoped you would be able to explain something to me."

"I was in the rancho. When I returned, Rosa was already not at home. And Bernardo was sitting in the cave, we expected you to return much sooner," he answers shaking helplessly his head.

"Well, the only thing that counts right now is that Rosa warned me in front of Barcelo and his lancers. She may be accused of helping the criminal... though I hope that Barcelo will not go so far... Anyway, I am going to the pueblo right now. I will make whatever row maybe necessary to bring her home."

"I will follow you... as soon as I gather some friends... you know, just in case," my father looks at me a bit shyly, but I only nod my head:

"I will not stop you this time. We will meet at the pueblo."

Having said that, I am about to leave, but my father grabs my arm and without saying a word pulls me in front of the mirror. I try to oppose, but when I see my reflection... Considering the state of my hair and lopsided buttoned jacked, I just look like a man who... well, who was changing his clothes in the utmost haste. I took a few deep breaths and order my hair, while my father is correcting my jacket, just as when I was a small boy.

"Listen, Diego," he says to me very calmly, as if he was speaking to a child, "I hope you understand the difference between being angry and acting as if you were angry? You must do the second."

"I understand, Father. I am in control now."

"Sure you are," he sighs heavily. "Just concentrate, Diego, or will not help her, only lose yourself."


	4. Who lives by the sword 2

**Who lives by the sword (2)**

_Concentrate, Diego. _That is what I repeat during the whole ride to Los Angeles. Easier said than done... The worst is that I have no idea what happened – and I have no idea how to talk us out of it. Not even a point to start with and build some reasonable plan to explain Rosa's actions... It seems I will have to improvise.

I enter the pueblo for the third time today and immediately notice Barcelo and few lancers behind the tavern. Unbelievable! He asked soldiers to order the backyard, a bit demolished after our earlier fight! He is definitely the most respectable officer I ever met. Pity, that he is also such a nuisance.

I ride to him, wondering what to say, but luckily he starts the conversation himself.

"Don Diego! So you already heard! It is very... embarrassing situation. Dona Rosa has spoiled the trap for that bandit we set with great effort."

"You have my apologies and full compassion, Capitán, but right now I would like to know, where is she?" I ask impatiently.

Barcelo is not surprised with my reaction. He only sighs and points at Peraza's office:

"With the _magistrado_. Peraza wants to put charges against her."

"What? Peraza? And what does he have to do with it?" I ask incredulously. I expected that I will have to deal with Barcelo's disappointment and reproofs, whereas the capitán seems to be calm, even if a bit downcast. But Peraza?

"Listen, Diego" says Barcelo quickly, a bit apologetically, "I would never like to cause any harm to a women. I know that they are weak-willed, emotional creatures, driven by the impulses of heart... There is nothing we could do about it. What happened, happened and bothering your wife will not change it. But the _magistrado_..." he hesitates for a moment and finally finishes, deciding to speak absolutely open. "I think it is because she is you wife. Peraza has some strange resentment toward you. Now he just uses it as an occasion to... hurt you."

I slowly nod my head. Yes, the _magistrado_ felt some aversion toward me from our first meeting and the affair with Professor Altamirano only deepened his dislike. And I thought he may be ignored, as many others who disdained or mocked Diego de la Vega. Apparently not. How strange, that Zorro's troubles will be used by Diego's enemy...

"I will talk to him," I say to Barcelo and he only says:

"I will be waiting here. If I could be of any help, just call me."

I am not sure anymore, if I am angry, or if I am acting as I was angry. I just enter Peraza's office without knocking. Rosa is sitting there, with an offended look and folded hands, but rather calm. Apparently she didn't find Peraza worth either crying or fainting. Peraza is walking around the table looking a little bored. I have the feeling that he was just waiting for me to come.

When I enter, they both beam – Rosa with relief that she sees me safe and healthy, Damián with malicious satisfaction.

"Don Diego, I was expecting you," he says with cold smile.

"Could you explain why are you keeping my wife here?" I do not even try to be polite – am I not acting as if I were angry?

"If you do not know it yet, your wife has helped the known criminal to avoid arrest."

"I am very sorry about it," I say obliviously, "but I am not going to let you detain her here."

"Maybe you are not aware of it, but aiding an outlaw is a punishable offense."

Rosa observes us with caution. I can see that she wants say something, but I sign her to remain quiet. If the _magistrado_ wants to show that he is in power here, I will let him.

"_Magistrado_," I say peaceably, "I already spoke with Capitán Barcelo. He has no claims against us. Accusing my wife will not help you to catch this man." For a moment I seek for suitable arguments and continue as friendly as I can: "It just happened. You know that... women are emotional creatures, driven by impulses of fear... You cannot blame her for the compassion, so natural to all representatives of the fairer gender."

Rosa scowls at me and the compassion is the last emotion I could see in her cold eyes. I sign her impatiently to be a little more cooperative – she sighs with irritation, but lowers her head a little, blinks a few times and one single tear rolls down her cheek. The effect spoils the questioning glance she sends me, as if she was saying, 'Is it better now?'

However, the magistrado does not care for her tears, to tell the truth he does not care for her at all. I guess that he divides people between tools and aims. Right now, Rosa is only a tool, I am an aim.

"Had it not been for the fact that your friend Barcelo wants to protect you, she would be already under arrest." Peraza shrugs his shoulders. "However, your position and friends will not let you escape from the law, Senor de la Vega," he looks at me with threat.

All right, if he wants me, let's give it to him.

"I am responsible for my wife," I say calmly. "Whatever she does, it is with my knowledge and approval. If you want to punish someone for that accident, raise the charges against me."

Rosa wants to say something, but once again I silence her. The less attention the _magistrado_ pays at her, the better – and it is not only that I want to protect her. I also protect myself. Rosa is now the very unsettling linkage between me and _el Zorro. _I do not want Peraza to think deeper about the motives of her action. That is the only way he could really cause me troubles...

"Accuse me, if you have to accuse someone," I repeat.

For a moment Peraza is considering my words quite interested, but then replies with honest regret:

"I have no proofs to build the case against you, de la Vega. Any court would acquit you from the charges."

Apparently he realizes that accusing Rosa is the best way to harm me and is not going to resign. Slowly I am losing my patience.

"Do as you please, _Magistrado_," I hiss nearing to him, "but I am not going to let you neither accuse her, nor detain here any longer."

He approaches me too and looking straight into my eyes says with irony:

"And what are you going to do, Don Diego? Write one of you famous letters to the governor?"

I keep his glance.

"No. A letter to his nephew. He is my friend, and the governor is very attached to him. Cause any more troubles to my wife, Damián, and your career in California will be over before the end of the month."

I have never done it before. I have never used my position to threaten anyone. The only consolation is that before writing such letter I would rather kill Peraza barehanded. Unfortunately, he wouldn't find threat of fight from Diego de la Vega credible, whereas he believes I could use my high-standing friends against him.

He looks at me white with fury, clenching his fists. Right now he would give half of his life to destroy me, but he also realizes that he cannot afford losing the position here. I know he feels humiliated. I feel humiliated too, but I cannot defer.

The heavy silence is broken by the clatter of horses on the plaza. I throw quick glance through the window.

"It is my father," I say lightly, yet allowing a bit of menace to my voice. "Do you want him to join our discussion?"

For a moment Peraza looks through the window in silence. When he turns to me, he looks defeated, but not to the end.

"There is no need for it," he says, and I see that he has some new plan. He comes to the door and opens it:

"Shall we? Senora?" he says to Rosa with a bit mocking grin.

Rosa looks at me and I sign her to go.

When we exit at the plaza, the faces of the awaiting men turn to us. My father has arrived in the company of Don Augustin and Don Ignatio, Rosa's father. I can see that my father is rather calm, but Don Ignatio was just shouting at Capitán Barcelo. Poor capitán, what an awful day he had! Lost match in the morning, lost fight and spoilt trap at the evening, and now he is accused by the most respected citizens of harassing the lady... Really, our brave soldier does not deserve it.

"As I explained to Senor de la Vega, I should issue the charges against his wife for aiding the well known outlaw. However," he raised his hand to silence the protests, "considering the unawareness – and blessed state – of Dona Rosa, I decided to bury this lamentable incident in oblivion – of course under the condition that Capitán Barcelo does not object."

"Of course not," bridles the capitán, whereas Rosa, far from gratitude, send Damián the most murderous glance. Unawareness! I had to squeeze her hand to keep her quiet.

The _magistrado_ nods, and before we manage to smile, continues:

"However, Don Diego during our conversation behaved in the inadmissible way, offending the King's official with the most insulting threats and blackmail. Capitán, I want this man put under arrest for the contempt of my office."

Almost everyone – my father, his friends, Rosa, Barcelo – start to protest simultaneously, but I silence the commotion pushing Rosa toward my father.

"Father, please," I say with my usual serene smile, "I am afraid I have been all this. Let the _magistrado_ proceed as he wishes."

I bow to them, and, before anyone manages to utter one more word, take Barcelo's arm and almost drag the confused capitán toward the _cuartel_.

I am very content. Let the _magistrado_ enjoy his little victory, let our capitán be embarrassed. Let them not consider any further, whether my Rosa really warned the masked bandit only because of pure compassion.

All in all, I ended the day in Barcelo's jail, but it could be much, much worse. As long as I am wearing my blue suit, not the black outfit, it is really not a problem.

* * *

Capitán Barcelo did his best to accommodate me in the cell as comfortably as possible, providing me with anything I wished – books, wine, chess, even my guitar. When he had no time to talk to me, he relieved Sergeant Garcia from his duties, so that he could entertain me. I on my side used this occasion to improve a little the conditions of lancers and other prisoners being actually held in the _cuartel_ - what they welcomed enthusiastically - so my stay there soon turned into a small _fiesta_.

Of course _Magistrado_ Peraza visited me a few times to enjoy my humiliation, but he had awful timing.

During his first visit I was just playing cards with Sergeant Garcia – we also invited two lancers that should be guarding the cells at this time. To thank them for they company, I was losing badly, so the soldiers were just exhilarated, winning the nice addition to their payroll. They even insisted on buying us some wine. It was rather unnecessary, considering the number of bottles I was provided with, but the hospitality of friends should never be rejected.

What is more, theoretically, when the prisoner had visitors, the doors to the cells should be closed, yet it would be quiet strange if the lancers guarding the cells from the outside were locked inside. So the doors were widely open.

When Damián Peraza entered the _cuartel_ and saw our nice, a little tipsy company, I waved for him friendly:

"Would you care to join us, _Magistrado_?" but he only turned back on the spot and left. It was even good, because we had no place for the fifth player.

When I was alone, I was making use of my guitar and the other prisoners really welcomed that little entertainment. They begged me to sing some ballads about Zorro, yet, due to my inborn modesty I refused, on the excuse that it would irritate Capitán Barcelo. However, when the capitán left the _cuartel_, they insisted so long, until I finally gave up. The songs about the Fox were quite popular, so they all sang with, even soldiers hummed the melody. When I finished, they cheered and applauded to make me sing the next one and soon the outcries "Viva el Zorro!" were accompanied by the equally loud "Viva Don Diego!"

That was exactly the moment that _Magistrado_ Peraza chose for his second visit.

"Oh, maybe you would like to hear some special song, _Magistrado_?" I asked politely. "For example I know very suitable ballad about the adventures of the brave judge Vasca returning from the drinking contest?..."

However, he only turned red and left once again without a word, clenching his fists.

On the third time... well let's just say that that time he met my father…

* * *

The only discomfort was that I still didn't know what exactly happened on that unfortunate evening, when I almost fell into the Barcelo's trap... I didn't dare to talk about it with my father in the _cuartel_, where the lancers could hear us. As for Rosa, I asked her not to appear in the pueblo. I didn't want her to speak with Barcelo until I learn exactly what happened and we prepare further strategy together. Finally I decided to pump a little Sergeant Garcia.

"Tell me, Sergeant, what exactly was going on with that famous trap for Zorro, thanks to which I am spending here – the most pleasurably – time in your company?" I asked casually, opening the bottle of wine.

To my surprise, Sergeant Garcia was unusually reluctant to speak.

"I do not know much, Don Diego..." he sighed.

"Then just tell me what you know," I encouraged him, pouring us wine.

"Well, that day, on the afternoon, Capitán Barcelo told us about the trap for the Fox he planned for the evening. He didn't give us any details, but was quite sure that this time he will succeed."

He hesitated for a moment, but when I looked at him expectatively, continued.

"Well, before that I... I had to visit Rancho La Brea. Supplies, and so on. On my way back, I decided to pay you a visit, Don Diego. Just to... well, I hoped for a short rest in the shadow..."

I smiled. Of course he hoped for a not-so-small sip of wine.

"You are always welcome, Sergeant," I stated. "And what happened next?"

"Thank you, Don Diego. Well, you were at the rancho with Don Alejandro, as you may remember."

I was probably already near Altamirano's camp, but I only nodded.

"So I met only Dona Rosa. She was so kind to offer me some refreshment... but I had little time... Dona Rosa wanted to visit the capitán's niece, so I accompanied her to the pueblo, but later... I just had to proceed with my duties. I just do not know anything more"

I almost smiled. Apparently my Rosita was as good as me in obtaining the information from my dear sergeant. Now I have at least general picture of the events. He just has mentioned something about that special trap, so she rode to the pueblo, somehow got more precise information and waited to warn me... I cannot deny that her presence was very helpful...

"Well, that is rather obvious, Sergeant," I said with a smile. "She must have seen the fight from the window, and, driven by compassion, decided to help that man. You know that the Fox has many times helped our family."

"I know, Don Diego, only that..." the sergeant stuttered and I patted friendly his arm.

"Do not worry, my dear Sergeant... The day will come when you will catch him and close him in one of these cells. As for now, what about the next glass?"

"Gladly, on Diego!" the sergeant beamed for a moment and started to pour the wine, mumbling still under the nose: "I only hope that the Fox will be more cautious, otherwise that day may come sooner than... than it is necessary."

I promise, I will.

* * *

I let Peraza to keep me in the cell three days. Finally, we all had enough. I was tired with doing nothing, Bernardo was tired with bringing the wine for my friends in the _cuartel_, and my father was tired with tolerating the fact that Peraza imposed on us his will. I do not know what Rosa was tired with, as I hadn't seen her, but my father said, that she was getting just unbearable. Even Barcelo was tired with my presence in his cell, that it seriously disorganized the routine discipline in the _cuartel_.

So, on the fourth day I finally let my father to... talk with the _magistrado_. The result was quick to see.

"You are free, Don Diego," Barcelo with a smile wanted to open the doors to the cell and to his confusion noticed, that they were not closed. Apparently, the lancers forget to close it after the last game. His smile faded a little, but he continued:

"Don Alejandro insisted that the _magistrado_ either issues the charges against you, or set the fine... Of course there was no reason for any serious charges, so he finally let you go, even without a fine."

"That is good news," I said leaving the cell. "I will gladly return home. However, I am very obliged for your help and care, Capitán."

"There is nothing to speak about," he waved his hand. "You shouldn't be put under arrest in the first place."

He accompanied me to the _cuartel's_ gate, but suddenly, in spite of my exhilaration, I felt that something is bothering him.

When I looked at him, I saw no smile on his face anymore.

"Capitán? Some troubles?" I asked cautiously. He raised his head and I noticed that he looked like a man fighting with his own thoughts.

"Before you leave, Don Diego, there is something..." he started and stopped.

I thought he was a bit unsure about our future relations after this affair. Or maybe he still felt betrayed by Rosa's behavior?

"Do not keep resentment toward Rosa, Capitán. She values you as a friend, just as I do. It is only that... the Fox saved once her live," I said calmingly, hoping that this explanation would be enough to dispel his doubts.

"Did he also save your live, Don Diego?" he asked quietly.

Ha, I didn't expect this question. It can have many meanings. I doubt that he is just curious. He maybe suspecting that I am secretly helping the Fox. He may suggest me gently, that my wife is a bit too near to that bandit. Or maybe... it may be something much worse...

"You could say he did," I say pretending to be oblivious. "I told you once about the trap for the Fox, when I was a bait. I was closed in the very same cell in that _cuartel_," I pointed him the cell, "and he really came and let me out. Although – I do not believe that I was in any real danger."

Barcelo nodded a few times and I almost thought that he just accepted my explanation, when he suddenly asked, not looking at me:

"Did anyone see it?"

Here we are. It is much worse.

"Half of the garrison was waiting in the trap. And Sergeant Garcia just in front of the cell," I said lightly, allowing a suitable dose of surprise to my voice.

"It wasn't stated directly in the reports, but it seems that most of them were sleeping... Anyway, no one saw anything for sure. Well, they saw Zorro, they fought him, but... No one saw you and the Fox together," Barcelo concluded and finally looked at me with tension.

Just do not excuse yourself, Diego. Innocent people do not excuse themselves from such ridiculous accusations.

I burst out laughing and pointed at my cell:

"Do you want me to return there, Capitán?" I asked merrily. Barcelo immediately shivered:

"No, of course not, Don Diego! I just... do not want to neglect anything," he finished clumsily and, to cover his confusion, quickly opened the gate.

When we enter the plaza, I can see my father and Rosa in the company of some older Dons waiting for me. When Rosa saw me, she immediately ran to me, throwing herself on my neck with a long kiss.

People in California are not used to such public displays of feelings. We may sing passionate songs, but are rather strict in our behavior. So, seeing her outburst of emotion, gathered people started to laugh and cheer. These were friendly laughs.

I understood that Rosa was a kind of heroine now. True, not everyone here, especially among the rich _haciendados_, is the friend of the Fox, but everyone appreciates the spirited woman with brave heart. So, she was a heroine for saving _el Zorro, _and, to my surprise, I was also a bit of hero for saving her. Apparently the _magistrado's_ remark about my 'insultive threats' only gained me some recognition, unusual for quiet, pacifistic Diego.

Thus, I was a little embarrassed, for the first time receiving the applause of the crowd as myself, not as the Fox.

I stood Rosa on the ground and turned to our carriage. Then I noticed that Damián Peraza was watching us from the stairs in front of his office. For a moment our eyes met. I realized that something changed right now, when he saw me smiling, among cheering friends, with my beautiful wife by my side... Earlier I was for him only a rich idler, and obstacle to his plans... Now he looked at me as at the mortal enemy, sending me the glance of such pure hate, that I couldn't suppress the cold shiver...

* * *

When we arrived at the hacienda, we immediately sat in the sala to finally relate and discuss all the events. Rosa nestled herself on the couch so near me, that I threw an anxious glance on my father, but he looked at us with tenderness, not disapproval. I guess he was content to see me home too.

Bernardo wanted to pour us wine, but I stopped him. After the three days with Sergeant Garcia I will be reluctant even to smell the wine for a few weeks.

"My story is rather short," I started first. "On my way to the camp I met the girl, who asked me to prevent the fight between her brother and... suitor. I agreed."

"How could you refuse," muttered Rosa sneeringly, but I continued patiently:

"Then I watched that camp for a moment and saw nothing special. Three workers were playing cards and quarreling. Nothing suspicious. So, I just went to the pueblo, where this alleged fight had to take place... The rest you know."

My father nodded and gave the sign to Rosa, who slowly raised her head and started to speak:

"Soon after you and Bernardo went to the cave, at the hacienda arrived Sergeant Garcia, who told me that he has just visited Rancho Barbossa to settle some supplies arrangements."

"La Brea," I corrected her instinctively.

"No matter," Rosa shrugged her shoulders. "He wanted to speak to you, and was so disappointed with your absence, that I guessed he must be very thirsty and, substituting for you, I offered him some wine. We chatted for a moment and he mentioned that the capitán has some new plan to catch Zorro the very same evening and that it involved that girl, Annarita, who was to send the Fox to the trap."

"I wonder how Barcelo made her do it," I sighed, and my father replied with irritation:

"He didn't 'make her' do it, she came to the lancers herself. Oh, for God's sake, Diego, four thousand pesos is a tidy sum of money. One could buy a nice piece of land and build a house for it."

As if I wasn't feeling bad enough already, Rosa added a bit venomously:

"I realized immediately, that you will not be able to resist the urge to help the poor, young girl, so I decided to go to the pueblo to warn you somehow."

"Rosita, _por favo_r. You should have seen her, she was..."

"I know, I know, she was alone and it was dark. I heard it before," she snickered angrily and continued: "Anyway, I went to the pueblo, and this little lamb, your admirer Carmelita let me to the room adjacent to her uncle's chambers. Luckily, he was just giving the instructions to the lancers there. I guess he feels safer there than in the _cuartel_."

"Barcelo believes that Zorro may have some supporters among lower rang soldiers," explained my father.

"So, they spoke about that trap. Annarita came to them few days before and offered her help. Now, Barcelo decided to use her, suspecting that Zorro will visit Altamirano's camp."

"I knew he was going to make a trap there, I just didn't expect him to do it so quickly," I said a little apologetically.

"The Capitán deducted – correctly – that if the Fox is always so well informed, he will check the camp as soon as possible. So, they sent the girl to wait there."

"And when she let them know that she spoke with me, Barcelo hid the lancers around the tavern's yard," I finished.

"Exactly," Rosa nodded. "I saw everything quite well from the window. If you were far-sighted enough to check the yard from some roof or balcony, you would see that too... But of course you would never suspect a poor country girl to deceive you... so you just walked straight into the trap."

"Rosita..." I started, but my father interrupted me:

"Just be more cautious next time, Diego," he said a bit sharply and I could see Bernardo nodding eagerly. Being so outnumbered, I silenced and listened to the end of the story.

"I knew it wouldn't be wise for me to warn the Fox... I tried to convince Carmelita to do it, but she was too scared, so I decided to keep her away from it. She was of no use anyway... and Barcelo would make her a terrible row for it... Diego, I know it put us all in danger, but I had no choice," Rosa looked at me sadly.

"Do not worry," I calmed her. "They all think you did it because of pure compassion."

"The question is, how do we behave now?" said my father rather unconvinced by my calming tone.

"Now..." I replied with consideration, "now we have to take the closer look at this camp." They look at me surprised and I explain: "Peraza knew about this trap, he might have instructed Altamirano's men to behave with caution... I must somehow catch them unprepared..."

"Stop it, Diego!" my father almost shouted. "Now you have an obsession on this man! And you have no grounds for these suspicions! The only result of your escapades is bringing Barcelo nearer to the identity of _el Zorro – _and you didn't find any proof that this water-undertaking is a deception!"

"No. I didn't," I admitted reluctantly. "But my intuition..."

"Intuition? You are just obsessed with the idea of proving that Peraza is a cheater. I do not know the reasons of this animosity between you and him, but you are just blinded by it, just as he is!"

My father was so unjust, that I had a thousand arguments to prove him wrong. I simply did not know which I should bring up first, so for a moment I sat in astonished silence.

On the second thought, I replied nothing.

I am afraid he was right.

"There is one last thing I must tell you about," I started finally, changing the subject. "Just when I was leaving the _cuartel_... Well, Capitán Barcelo started to ask me, if anyone has seen me and Zorro together."

My father took the sharp breath; Bernardo almost dropped the glass he was keeping. Rosa cursed quietly:

"It is all my fault! I should have found some other way to warn you! It was...so stupid. Now he is seeing the connection between you and Zorro. How could I..."

"Stop, Rosita," I said gently. "Stop. You saved my live. Had it not been for you, I would be dead or imprisoned by now."

"But..."

"No, Rosita," I spoke very calmly and quietly, as the things I was going to tell them were going to be rather unpleasant. "You see... You told me that this girl, Annarita, came to the _cuartel_ a few days before the trap... And Capitán Barcelo, always so keen to discuss with me all his plans... didn't even mention a word about her... You didn't lead Barcelo on my trail. He must have had it earlier. Oh, of course, he doesn't want to believe it. Am I not his friend, who saved his life? He is probably even ashamed of his suspicions. But," I smiled a bit sadly, "all in all, he will not neglect any possibility..."


	5. Two wrongs don't make a right 1

**Two wrongs don't make a right (1)**

It could seem that, after the excitements of the tournament, the narrow escape of _el Zorro _from the trap of _Capitán_ Barcelo and affair with the arrest of the member of an upstanding, respected family, the life in Los Angeles returned to its usual, leisurely pace.

_Capitán_ Barcelo was exercising his lancers and trying to gather information about Zorro from the people at the pueblo, desperately searching for one more way to lure the Fox out of his hiding – and into the more successful trap.

Lancers were tired.

People in the tavern told Barcelo so many legends about the masked outlaw, that he finally concluded bitterly, that Zorro would need no less than a lifetime to at least see all these adventures. I advised him to stop paying for the wine for people he talked to.

Finally, Sergeant Garcia gladly took over the duty of questioning the tavern guests.

Damián Peraza, condemned by the public opinion for oppressing the lady – the very beautiful lady, which made his crime even more unforgivable – was sitting in his office, going through his documents.

Jaimé was sitting in the tavern trying to score Maria and Professor Altamirano was sitting in his room, going through his schemes and the maps of California.

And the Fox? The Fox was sitting home playing the piano.

* * *

And yet, things were not as simple as they might have seemed at the first glance.

For example, _Capitán_ Barcelo was now going through a very difficult time, windswept by contradictory emotions, losing his faith in people, friendship and his own sanity. No, it was not because of the fact that the wife of his best friend betrayed him to save a renegade. Rosa offered him a beautiful, teary apology. When she broke out with almost hysterical cry, I was afraid that she overdid a little, but the _capitán_ belongs to the men absolutely unresilient towards women's tears - another feature we share. So, their conversation finished with him begging her for forgiveness, that he caused her so much trouble. From then on, he always appeared in our hacienda with flowers for her, so they made a true and durable peace.

No, the reason for Barcelo's dilemmas was the fact that he was suspecting his friend to be an outlaw he hunted. Oh, how he didn't want it to be true! I guess that he would sooner prefer to be _el Zorro _himself. And yet he couldn't help observing me all the time: when I was riding the horse, he couldn't help comparing me to certain black silhouette; when I was laughing, he couldn't help imagining my face in the mask; when I was correcting the fire, he couldn't help picturing the sword in my hand instead of the poker... I saw it all, I read his internal fight from his face – and I would do anything to help him and provide him the proof his suspicions were wrong... Believe me, I would!

Or, another example, _Magistrado_ Peraza. He was desperately and with great devotion trying to find anything that would help him make my life more difficult. I happened to learn that he dug through all the tax records that were available, searching for any clue of irregularities concerning the de la Vega hacienda. Of course he found nothing. It came to my mind that actually the mere suspicion was the offence to our family's honor, for which I should call him out, but unfortunately it was a forbidden fruit to me… So, the _magistrado_ only spend in vain a few sleepless nights over the archives. I cannot say that I was sorry for him.

Or me, as the last example. My father forbade me in the most decisive way to search further for any clue that Professor Altamirano and his machine are the great deception. What is more, not fully believing that I would obey him, he not only observed me night and day, but also drew Rosa into his conspiracy. So, whenever I tried to sneak out, seeking a little privacy in the loneliness of my cave, she immediately started to feel bad. When I was too inquisitive about the symptoms or wanted to send for Doctor Hernandez, she used to simply faint and the discussion was over.

However, although I had no chances to wear Zorro's cape, I still could do my best as Diego de la Vega. Even within these narrow limits, I started to prepare a little surprise for the Professor. 'Why are you wandering for the whole days with the natives through the sierra?' asked one day my father suspiciously. I only laughed and quoted him one of his old texts about how I should be more responsible and more interested in the rancho that he sermonized so often in the first weeks after my return from Spain. I really do not understand why he got so irritated… He will get to know everything – in due time.

In the meantime, I never lost the occasion to observe both the professor and the _magistrado_. Finally, I managed to witness a situation, that required my intervention, but it was absolutely not what I expected.

I was staying in front of the tavern, waiting until my father finishes his business with the blacksmith and watching the plaza. More precisely, I was watching Professor Altamirano, retuning from Peraza's office - watching and wondering, why is he spending so much time at the pueblo? Shouldn't he rather examine the terrain more closely, search for a suitable place to carry on his tests?

My reflections were interrupted when one of the vaqueros chatting on the plaza, after seeing the professor, spit behind him and made the gesture, that according to peons beliefs should protect from the sorcery.

The professor didn't notice it, but I did.

"Pablo!" I came quickly to the vaquero. "Why did you do it?"

"That man is a misfortune," he replied slightly ashamed. "He is going to steal the water from our grounds with his machine."

"No, he is not," I laughed. "He is an educated man, who is going to help us in looking for water, not steal it!" At least not the water. Maybe some gold from _haciendados'_ purses, true, but until I prove it…

"People are afraid of him," Pablo said stubbornly and glanced at his companions gathering around us. They nodded with confirmation.

As I was looking on them searching for arguments, I noticed _Magistrado_ Peraza who must have seen the incident from his office and now was striding toward us.

"Better go to your business, Pablo," I muttered. Pablo noticed the _magistrado_ too, quickly nodded to thank me and disappeared in one of the side streets.

"Who was this man who attacked the professor?" asked aggressively Peraza, as soon as he approached me.

"He didn't attack him. People here are just a bit superstitious, that's all..." I said as calmly as I could.

"His name, Senor de la Vega," hissed the _magistrado_, "You talked to him, you must know him."

"I do not remember the name of each vaquero in the pueblo," I said shrugging my shoulders.

Peraza came nearer to me – so near that the threat in his pose was obvious.

"You have a strange inclination to defend people who offend the law, Senor," he said coldly, yet I could hear the fury in his voice.

As the man who doesn't approve violence and avoids confrontations, I should now move a little back and say something peaceable, but… The _magistrado_ has one feature that really scares me – he makes me dream about throwing off my mask of the calm, polite exterior…

"If you are referring to the incident involving my wife, I must agree. I do have a strange inclination to defend her. As for that vaquero – I have just forgotten his name," I replied rather challengingly, not moving back even an inch.

Damián understood that he will accomplish nothing and only bends to me, hissing:

"One day, de la Vega, one day you will regret your impertinence!" Then he left, not honoring me with any more glace.

What I would give to call him out! I was looking behind him wistfully, like a chained dog behind the cat he cannot catch - or rather, to be more precise, like a fox behind a chicken – so I didn't notice when my father approached me, very discontent.

"Diego, you should know better than to provoke this man!" he said angrily.

"Yes, Father," I sighed, discreetly rolling up my eyes.

However, I do have to control myself better. If it is my father who is calming me!...

* * *

Before we left the pueblo, I asked Bernardo to stay a bit longer and listen to the vaqueros. I wanted to make sure they won't get into troubles, messing with the _magistrado's_ friend.

As it soon turned out, my intuition was right. Bernardo overheard Pablo and other vaqueros talking about Altamirano's machine as if it was the devil itself. Finally, they decided to go to the worker's camp and… deal with the situation. More precisely – destroy it.

"Idiots. I must go there and stop them," I said rising.

"And you intend to go there as?..." my father stopped me putting his hand on my shoulder.

Rosa appeared in the room out of thin air. She was already getting pale and raising the hand to her stomach.

"Don't you think it is a work for Zorro? And please, do not try to stop me this time! If I go there as Diego, they may not listen!"

"Why don't we just let Sergeant Garcia know? Isn't it the duty of him and his lancers? Really, Diego, there is no need for the champion sword master to deal with a few vaqueros!" snickered my father, and looked at me very content that this time he managed to find simpler solution than me.

I was sorry to disappoint him.

"Father," I said patiently, "If the Sergeant intervenes, he will arrest them. And if he arrests them, I think we can imagine what Peraza will do to them. I told you how he reacted at Pablo's behavior!"

My father's face went low as he realizes that I am right. After a moment he nodded and sighed:

"Just try not to cross Barcelo's way, will you?"

"And be careful with lonely _senoritas_," added Rosa. "You know, sometimes…" she leaned to me and whispered as if confiding the great secret, "sometimes women lie…"

* * *

Tornado jumped today through the hills happy as a foal – perhaps the reason was cinnamon cookies I brought him from dinner. No, of course I am not trying to compete with Rosa in bribing him. I just do not want him to forget who his beloved master is.

When Pablo and his companions neared to the camp, I waited for them in the middle of the road, smiling friendly. Tornado, to welcome them, whinnied and reared a little. He probably wanted to be friendly too, but it made the vaqueros jump back like frightened birds.

I was very polite. I calmly appealed to their reason, using almost the same arguments as earlier that day on the plaza – yet this time they seemed to fall on much more susceptible ground. Strange, when I am so polite as Diego, no one seems to listen to me. What makes a difference? That rapier I carry now? But I haven't even touched the hand guard!

True, I added something about reckless idiots, bound to meet the troubles they ask for… but then I only asked them friendly to return to their homes.

"If you do not approve… If you say so, Senor Zorro" stuttered Pablo.

"I do! Just go home!" I finished rather sharply, as I saw Damián Peraza exiting from one of the tents. Why had he to choose that evening to visit the camp!

The vaqueros quickly turned their horses and ran away, and I made Tornado rear for a moment on a road, to cover them from his sight.

However, Peraza didn't seem to be interested in them this time.

"Thank you, Fox," he shouted and strode toward me.

Just do not take it personally, _Magistrado_. I saluted him reluctantly and rushed Tornado to ride away, but he stopped me.

"Wait, Zorro. I want to speak to you."

I looked at him with curiosity, for a moment suspecting a trap. Yet, I could see no one around. Peraza was wearing the sword by his side, but he approached me without even touching it.

"I need your help," he said calmly.

"_Magistrado _needs an outlaw's help?" I asked a bit mockingly, but he managed to wake my curiosity. What was he up to this time?

"Do you know what Professor Altamirano and these men are here for?"

"I heard about it," I said evasively.

"It is a good thing, and undertaking, that can bring a lot of good to all people who live here. Yet, I am afraid that it may fail because of the... prejudices some rich _haciendados_ have against me."

I think I know who he was talking about. I replied nothing, only waited for him to continue.

"I saw how people cheered you after the tournament. I saw how they obey you today. They will believe you… Help me to convince them, how easier their life might be… if the professor realizes his idea… And if the people will support… will demand it… even the _haciendados_ will have to listen…"

"So, you want me to rebel the people to put the pressure at the landowners?" I precised innocently. Peraza bit his lips.

"Haven't you always been on the side of the poor? Peons, natives, vaqueros? This... invention will serve them the most."

"I have never been on the side of the bloodshed… and that is where it might lead." I grasped the reins of Tornado, but Peraza raised his hand to stop me.

"Then at least help me to convince _rancheros…_ It would be enough if… well, they will all follow the de la Vegas. And it seems you have friends at this hacienda."

Another observant man in the pueblo. I did not like the direction of his thoughts.

"I have no influence on their decisions," I answered stiffly, but he only smirked.

"Diego de la Vega will do what his wife asks him to, and judging from her actions, she would do a lot for you. Convince her, otherwise, that man will ruin my plans."

Ha, finally someone appreciated the poor Diego! I couldn't help a bit of irony, when I remarked:

"Since you mentioned it – didn't you want to arrest Senora de la Vega for helping me?"

"I may apologize to her if it is important to you," replied Peraza, obliviously not confused with my remark. For a moment I wanted to tease him, asking if he would also apologize to me – I mean Diego – but I did not want to push my luck. This conversation lasted long enough.

"I admire your determination, but you do not need my help. Prove that this invention is true and the people will follow you, without my words. Water is the greatest treasure here," I said and rushed Tornado to ride, but he shouted:

"_El Zorro_! I can repay you for your help!"

Now he has finally offended me when I am wearing the right outfit... I turned slowly back and asked with a smile that should tell him it is a time to reach for his rapier:

"How?"

"Amnesty," replied Peraza looking at me calmly as before.

Ha, I didn't expect it. He must be truly desperate… but if he hoped he would make an impression on me, I must correct his mistake. I almost laughed into his face.

"I have been offered amnesty before. I didn't want it."

Well, that is an official version. I do not have to introduce him into my… family affairs. Yet, he didn't lose his certainty and on his face appeared a satisfied smile:

"But I can make it unconditional. You wouldn't have to take your mask off... you identity would remain a secret."

I silenced for a moment surprised and he continued, content that he caught my attention.

"Wouldn't you like that, Fox? Start once again with the clear account? You would be free to choose. You could even proceed with your... mission."

To tell the truth… I would like that very much. Not the clear account, but… just a few months of rest… no, of security, just for Rosa… at least until the child is born…

And he continued with a tempting tone:

"If you choose to chase the _banditos_ no one would care if you do it in a mask or without it. And if you choose to mess with lancers... well that would be your decision. But even then you would be judged by the honest official, not by the crooked lawyer of the corrupted _commandante_."

And what a great possibility to get rid of Barcelo, who is so near to solving my riddle! With the Fox no more wanted, he would have to break his assignment! Even for that reason I should… Wait, something in his last word sounded a bit… false… Was he proposing me... a long term agreement?

"Honest official? Does it refer to you, _Magistrado_?" I asked in the same temping tone as he.

I saw the triumph shining in his eyes – he was so sure we are just reaching an agreement that he replied straightly, with a knowing smile:

"As long as I am the _magistrado_ here, you won't have to be afraid of seeing your wanted posters again."

So here we are. Our unimpeachable judge tries to corrupt me. I was right to feel the… shadows in him… And if I allied with him… What a pair we would be! I felt the cold chill on my neck, as it was just… terrifying. Whatever he wouldn't be able to settle during the day as the _magistrado_, would be left for me to solve during the night, as his dark secret friend… as his accomplice… as his tool…

For a moment I wanted to draw my rapier to finally find out which one of us is better, but I managed to control myself. I can play it better. He may be my only chance to get rid of Barcelo… I must consider it calmly, not with the fury running through my veins more quickly than blood.

"You are a very interesting man, _Magistrado._ You may be sure I will do my best to get to know you better," I said so calmly, that he doesn't catch the double sense of my words and when I rush Tornado, he shouted after me:

"Let me know your answer Fox!... soon!"

* * *

This time I did not return to my cave, only to the small grove where Bernardo was waiting for me. I changed my clothes and while he returned with Tornado, I waited near the road for the carriage of my father and Rosa. We were going together for the supper with Barcelo in the tavern that was settled exactly for this evening… Luckily I managed to be on time. It wouldn't be good to recall an appointment when the news about the latest appearance of Zorro is soon to be spread.

We were sitting together, with Barcelo and Carmelita, and of course with my dear sergeant, drinking, eating and laughing – oh yes, of course Barcelo did throw me anxious glances, haunted by the black shadows - when suddenly to the tavern rushed _Magistrado _Peraza and immediately headed to our table.

"_Capitán_," he demanded, "some vaqueros wanted today to attack the camp of Professor Altamirano. Had it not been for _el Zorro, _they would destroy it. I want you to put the guards around it."

Of course Barcelo heard only one word from this speech.

"_El Zorro?_ He was there?"

"Yes, and he did your job, _Capitán_, so…"

"And you didn't even try to stop him? To fight him?" our _capitán_ asked incredulously.

"Why should I? He helped me!" shouted Peraza.

Ha, it seems that their short alliance is over…

My father leant cautiously to me and whispered:

"So you met him?"

"Oh, just for a moment and he was quite polite, I must admit. But he didn't say anything particular," I replied quietly. One was certain: if I wanted to have an open way with Peraza's offer of amnesty, the last thing I should do would be telling about it my father…

In the meantime, Barcelo got so irritated with that he jumped on his feet:

"Why? You ask why should you catch him, _Magistrado_? Because he is a renegade whose wanted posters hang just behind you! And you are the King's official, it is your duty to ensure the respect for the law!"

Peraza passed an oblivious glance through the posters and turned to Jose again:

"It is not my duty to catch him, only to issue the charges when you catch him, _Capitán_! Which is, apparently, not going to happen very soon!" he grinned maliciously.

I do not like when my friends are humiliated. I leant to Sergeant Garcia and asked him loud enough for everyone to hear:

"What do you think, Sergeant, is letting to escape an outlaw a punishable offence?"

"I am not sure, Don Diego," he replied in consideration. "I think that it depends on the circumstances… If someone disposes with the means to detain him…"

"The means? Like… well, let's say… the outstanding skills in the art of fencing?..."

"That would surely count!" the good sergeant beamed.

Merry grins appear on the faces of people who were near us – these who sat a bit further burst out with laughter. Peraza turned toward me with his fists clenched and for a moment it looks as if he was going to throw himself on me. Apparently I have the gift to make him lose his patience too…

"_Magistrado_," chimed in my father in peaceable voice – _Dios_, my father again acts as pacifist!, "do you know when Professor Altamirano will start his tests? Has all the material he ordered arrived to the pueblo?"

"Almost, Don Alejandro," replies Peraza much calmer. His last encounters with my father weren't the most pleasant but the reminder about his undertaking brings him immediately to reason. "We are waiting for the last part… and for the experienced assistant who will supervise the construction. We know the competent man who worked with the professor and he will arrive soon. In no more than one, two weeks we should be ready – of course if in the meantime the safety of the camp will be secured," he finished looking a bit challengingly at Barcelo.

The _capitán_, however, managed to calm himself in the meantime and only replied in his official tone:

"I will send two lancers to guard this camp, _Magistrado_."

"Gracias, _Capitán_," replied Peraza equally formally and left, throwing one more pensive glance at my wanted posters.

"It is just… unbearable!" muttered Barcelo sitting down. "Now I will have to wait again God knows how long for this bandit to show himself! And if he won't ride, how can I catch him?"

Then he threw a bit unconscious glance at me and moved his eyes at the watch hanging on the wall. I could almost see the calculations in his head – for a moment he was trying to figure out if I could pay the visit in the camp before we started our supper… Then he shivered and looked at me once more, this time very guilty. I agree – it is unbearable, for both of us.

"Forgive me, _Capitán_," said shyly Sergeant Garcia, "but why should he ride? He does it only when the lancers are not able… I mean when there are _bandidos_, or something," the sergeant quickly corrected himself under the Barcelo's menacing glare. "And now there are no _bandidos_. Not even a shadow of them. You caught them all."

True. Barcelo, half because his sense of duty and half because of frustration, did his best to maintain the security in the pueblo – and his best was definitely good enough. However, he did not look satisfied, only desperate:

"Woo for me then," he sighed slightly ironically. "I should have left a few for the Fox then, if I wanted to have a chance to meet him."

"Oh, but it is never difficult to find new _bandidos_," consoled him Garcia, "in the worst case one could always hire a few of them."

I am afraid the poor sergeant spent too much time with Monastario.

"Hire. _Bandidos_," repeated slowly Barcelo looking at the sergeant with such disdain that my big friend seemed to shrink in a second. "Indeed, Sergeant if those are your habits here I prefer even not to imagine how your past superiors…"

Suddenly, he silenced and repeated after a moment, not angrily, but with consideration: "Hire _bandidos_..."

For a moment Sergeant Garcia and I exchanged glances and the sergeant looked as if he wanted to bite off his own tongue.


	6. Two wrongs don't make a right 2

**Two wrongs don't make a right (2)**

We didn't have to wait long for the results of the inspiration the _capitán_ found that evening, when our dinner was interrupted by _magistrado _Peraza.

"Barcelo found and hired three men in the harbor who came as far as from San Francisco," related Rosa after returning from the prolonged shopping in the pueblo. "He provided them with food and money and asked to wait in hiding, in some old vinery near the highway to San Pedro. And he talked with the inn-keeper about simulating a robbery in the tavern. The inn-keeper was very reluctant, but Barcelo offered him two hundred pesos as compensation. He also announced the drill exercises for his lancers for tomorrow, when this fake robbery should take place, so it is surely some kind of trap for Zorro. And he is intending to talk with you today."

"How do you know it?" I inquired, though I suspected the answer.

"From Carmelita, the postman's daughter and tavern maids."

Some Dons find it strange that I do not mind my wife gossiping so long with her friends, especially that most of them are not what they describe as 'the ladies from good society'… I definitely do not. After the one escapade she brings more news than Bernardo and I could gather during the whole week.

"Something else?" I asked with a smile.

"Oh, yes. There is a new dancer in the tavern."

"I have heard about it," I mention losing my smile.

"Only heard? And haven't you and Sergeant Garcia been watching her yesterday for at least two hours?"

Sometimes my sweet lady is just too inquisitive…

"I was talking with the sergeant. I didn't pay attention to the dancers," I answer with dignity and just in case rush to the stables.

* * *

Thanks to Rosita, when Barcelo arrived at the evening and asked to speak with me in private for a moment, I already knew his intentions and had the plan to use them.

"Don Diego..." he started slowly, "I have prepared a new trap for _el Zorro_ – I hired the men who are going to simulate the robbery in the tavern. I will be on maneuvers with most of the lancers, so it will fall to the Fox to stop them."

I cannot say that he is particularly original.

"But you are not going to be on maneuvers, only waiting in hiding near the pueblo to arrest him?" I said with knowing smile. "There has already been a trap like this once."

"I know," nodded Barcelo not discouraged, "but he appeared then and it is likely that he will appear now."

"Well, good luck, _Capitán_." I knew what he wanted, but was not going to make it easy for him.

Poor _capitán_ swirled, looked at the ceiling, then at the floor, corrected his jacket…

"Don Diego, may I ask you to ride with me?" he threw finally.

"On the maneuvers? I mean – to wait in that trap? Why? Forgive me, _Capitán_, but I find nothing exciting in such escapades! I would rather say they are terribly uncomfortable!" I blink innocently. Now Barcelo must speak straightly, no matter how embarrassed he feels.

"My friend, forgive me… but I just would like to see you and the Fox in one place together. Just to… just to be sure…"

"I cannot believe it! You really suspect me!" I exclaimed. In my voice was everything that should be: disbelief, amusement, a bit of sadness… "But why? Can you at least give me the reason, why do you think that I am the man, who could… a man like Zorro?"

I did my best to make the very same idea sound just silly and waited anxiously for his answer… Oh, yes, I would like to know, how he caught the trail!

Barcelo for a moment kept silent as if searching for words.

"It is not that you are like him, Don Diego… but that he is so much like you."

"Like me?" I asked with real surprise. I couldn't understand what he tried to tell me.

The _capitán_ for a long time kept his eyes on the floor. Finally, he looked at me and confessed slightly ashamed, with almost boyish smile.

"The books, Don Diego. You know I love them. And when I try to get to know someone, I always wonder what kind of lectures he might appreciate. As I tried to imagine Zorro's books… all the titles I thought about were your favorite ones. Ever since this idea came to my mind, I am just… haunted by it."

The books? True, I might have been a little reckless while discussing with the _capitán_ my lectures, but how could anyone come to such weird idea to consider the Fox reading anything! Am I going to be exposed because of my books?...

I couldn't gather my thoughts to find an answer, but luckily Barcelo continued:

"Besides, sometimes it seems as if you were hiding something, Diego. You are always so… calm and confident. As if there was nothing in the word you couldn't cope with. And always… so much in control. People without any secrets do not control themselves all the time."

I decided that appealing to his logic would be more effective than denying.

"All your… impressions don't prove that I am a criminal, _Capitán_."

"Of course not. I just want to…get rid of any suspicions. Just ride with me, my friend. When the Fox appears, even if we do not catch him, I will be able to… stop suspecting you."

There is a flaw in his logic. Now, when he told me about his plan, I could just calmly wait with him for the whole night for _el Zorro, _complaining for discomfort and lack of sleep… It wouldn't refute his suspicions, but it couldn't also confirm them, as the Fox might have thousands of reasons not to ride this particular night. Yet, he seeks the proof of my innocence… not of my guilt – and I was going to use it. I am not going to wait by his side, only use – well, create - the possibility to clear myself.

"I will ride with you," I nodded and Barcelo sighed with relief. Then, however, I shifted very uncomfortably.

"But… you know, _Capitán_… I think I have a better idea… Maybe I will just wait in the tavern as a hostage?"

He looked at me surprised and I continued:

"It would be… it would be rather more comfortable than crawling in the bushes… Forgive me, _Capitán_, but I was not made to be a soldier! And a hostage would add some dramatic to your performance! Oh, you can ask your fake bandits to watch me all the time or lock me somewhere!" I exclaimed seeing his hesitation, then sighed and confessed, rather ashamed, "Besides, if I have to take part in the show you prepared for the Fox, I prefer to be the one saved by him, not one of his attackers."

Of course he couldn't refuse…

* * *

And so I sat in the tavern with three men that did their best to look like very fearsome _bandidos_. To tell the truth they didn't have to work very hard on it… Barcelo's plan was simple. The 'bandits' were to burst into the tavern when it was almost empty, with me as the last guest, incapacitate me and the inn-keeper – very politely, of course – and then wait, pretending that they are plundering the tavern. Of course they swore not to do too much mess, clean their hands before touching any table cloth - and not to drink more than one bottle of wine.

My plan is simple too. I was going to nag, complain, pretend to be afraid of the Fox and insist that they lock me in the cellar, so that I wouldn't have to see the fight. My black outfit was already waiting for me in one of the barrels and Tornado - behind the smithy. All I had to do was to change quickly, visit Barcelo and his lancers, let them chase me for the moment, then ask Tornado to lure them alone. In the meantime, I would return to the tavern, sneak to the cellar through the small window that saved my life so many times, change my clothes and pretend to be bored to death when Barcelo comes to liberate me. That's the best I can do to give the capitán impression of me and Zorro being simultaneously in two different places…

The inn-keeper was so afraid about the revenge of the Fox – as if I have ever revenged on someone for cheating me! I might have at most played some jokes, nothing serious! – that he insisted on being locked up in the back room just at the beginning, so that he could claim later he knew nothing about the trap – as if I have ever failed to learn who, how, and for what was paid in this pueblo…

Anyway, I was alone in the sala with the 'bandits'. They behaved quite calmly, I must admit. It was only a bit strange that they didn't pay any attention to me, only talked about Barcelo.

"Where is the _capitán_?" asked one of them.

"Near the bakery, just behind the town," replied another.

"With all the lancers?"

"No, they split, to guard all of the streets… There are two or three lancers with him at most."

Nice to know it. Well, it was the highest time to proceed with my plan. To start with, I didn't like the fact that they bound my hands. It was nothing I couldn't cope with, but as the main star of the performance I could demand from them to make my life a little easier.

"Eh… excuse me, gentlemen… is it really necessary?" I asked raising my wrists. "I am not going anywhere. It is dark outside. And these ropes are going to leave bruises. How will I look tomorrow?"

They looked at me a little startled, as if they forgot about my presence and one of them said to his companion:

"Quiet him. Just not too strong, we are not here after him."

Strange words, absolutely out of place. I managed to get surprised, get suspicions and understand what is going on – but unfortunately nothing else than that, until one of them approached me, aimed at my head with a hand guard of his sword and the word went black.

* * *

When I regain consciousness, I realized after a moment of confusion that I am lying on the floor in the tavern's cellar. Theoretically, the events went according my plan – not counting this bruise on my temple and pain splitting my head. For a moment I rested, cooling my head on the damp floor. I had no idea how much time has passed in the meantime and whom I can meet outside. So, doing nothing and waiting calmly for someone to let me out was a tempting option… Then, however, I reconsidered what I heard just before the fake '_bandidos'_ – who turned out to be quite real – stunned me. It was obvious that they came here with some plan involving Barcelo, and my friend, not prepared for this kind of danger, might have now real troubles. I couldn't leave him alone… after all he got into it because of me…

So I had to make use of the equipment Bernardo left me behind the barrels - change my clothes and sneak out through the small window, just as I intended to do to mislead Barcelo. Before leaving, I quickly entered the tavern through the back door: the sala was dark and empty, but the candles were still warm, so the bandits must have left it no earlier than a quarter before.

I run straight toward the bakery, stopping only in Tornado's hiding, to ask him follow me as quiet as he could – I didn't want the clatter of his hoofs to alarm the lancers. So, my black friend slid behind me like the big shadow, so silently, that even I couldn't hear him…

These precautions turned out to be quite unnecessary because as soon as I neared to the bakery, I heard the noises of the fight. Entering the yard, I noticed that the battle was quite even. One of the bandits lied motionless on the ground, dead or unconscious, I couldn't recognize – just as one soldier. Barcelo was doing rather well with his opponent, but the lancer by his side was losing badly with the last _bandito_, wavering on his feet while his shoulder seemed to be broken or sprained. When I jumped into their direction, the bandit just knocked him down and it was obvious that the soldier will not rise on his own strength. So, I threw myself under the bandit's blade, parrying with my sword. His eyed went widely open when he saw me – probably another man who thought that the Fox is only a legend. Fear paralyzed his movements and our fight didn't last long until I managed to stun him. In the same moment, Barcelo got rid of his attacker who, limping, ran away into darkness.

Suddenly the yard was silent, only I and the _capitán_ stood breathing loudly over four unconscious men. He looked at me and for the first time since I knew him I saw in his eyes doubt and… hesitation. Was he finally to understand that we are on the same side?

I just stood and, without my usual smile or salute, waited for his decision.

"Thank you for the life of my soldier, Senor," he said finally and his voice was heavy but decisive, "yet… I am sorry, I am here because of you."

Having said this he drew his sword toward me, so there was nothing else for me to say but:

"As you wish, _Capitán_. _En garde_!" I even managed to smile, although it was rather sad smile this time.

As I said before, Jose is a good fencer and on other occasion I would enjoy the fight with someone like him, but this time I had no heart to duel. I disarmed him as soon as I could and blocked his way when he wanted to pick up the blade.

"Who are these men? _Bandidos_? What do they want from you?" I asked.

Barcelo for a moment lingered with the answer, grasping for the air in quick, deep breaths and measuring the distance between him and his weapon with wistful glance, so I pressed slightly the peak of my blade over his chest and urged him:

"We already fought as you wanted, now we will talk as I do. Who are these men?"

"I have never seen them," he finally answered, "but from what they said before the attack, they must have belonged to some group of _desperados _I crushed during my service in San Francisco… I managed to smash many bands that time… Some of them were very well organized and not all of their members were captured. It is not the first time they have followed me seeking vengeance."

I know. That is how we made acquaintance, my dear _capitán_.

"And how did you find these three? Oh, I know you hired them to make a trap for me!" I explained seeing the surprise on his face.

"How? Who told you?"

Ah, I know what you are thinking, _Capitán_, you would like so many answers right now… Is there a traitor at the _cuartel_? Or is someone spying on you? Or maybe I am Diego de la Vega and you told me yourself?... The benefit of doubts is mine this time.

"Doesn't matter. I am just the man who likes to know what happened around him. What matters is whether they had some accomplices in the pueblo. Did someone recommend them to you?"

I noticed in his eyes the spark of understanding and finally his attention concentrated not on me, but on the bandits.

"No, I just inquired in San Pedro for some men not known in Los Angeles. I found them in the harbor," he replied honestly. "They agreed to play the role of the _banditos_ and simulate the attack…" suddenly he stooped and in his eyes appeared sincere anxiety: "_Dios_! De la Vega… If he… they could…"

Yes, yes, I know. If he is not me the _banditos_ could kill him. I mean: me. Well, Diego. Oh, it is so confusing, sometimes I am getting lost myself…

The _capitán_ stared at me for a moment trying to decide what is more likely: that Diego de la Vega is laying somewhere dead or wounded - or that he is staying quite healthy just in front of him. To my relief, he choose the first option and swirled anxiously in search for his soldiers, heedless of my blade, apparently with the intention to rush to the tavern.

"I would appreciate if you didn't call your lancers," I had to remind him about my presence, gently raising my blade.

"I must go to the tavern. It is all my fault. If they killed someone…" he looked at me almost pleadingly.

The wisest thing to do would be just knock him or bind, but… I didn't want to do it, just as I didn't want to leave my "Z" on his uniform. He was not like Sergeant Garcia, he would take it too seriously, feeling dishonored and humiliated. And as I said, I do not like when my friends are humiliated.

"If you promise to give me a quarter to escape, I will just leave you here," I proposed.

"You have my word," he said seriously, and kneeled by the unconscious lancer. Yet, before starting to take care about him, the _capitán_ searched his pocket and… yes, my eyes were right: he took out his watch and tried to check the time in the moonlight…

I chuckled, whistling for Tornado. Obviously, I could count for my quarter…

* * *

I didn't have much time, but thanks to Tornado, I reached the tavern much sooner than Barcelo. I managed calmly to change my clothes, hide the black costume, wrap the rope around my wrists and lay comfortably on the floor, before I heard him prying the door to the cellar open. To add a little drama to the scene of rescue, I pretended to be unconscious and opened my eyes only when I understood that the _capitán_, not being able to find water, intends to pour on me some wine to wake me. I didn't want to smell like the tavern for the next week.

"_Capitán_?...What happened?" I asked, blinking in surprise.

Barcelo gasped with relief:

"Don Diego! For a moment I thought I send you to the same death you saved me from!"

"I am all right, _Capitán_," I stated bravely and tried to stand. Unfortunately, I wavered and almost fell on the floor again. Poor Barcelo, tormented by the remorse, supported me and sat on the stairs.

"These bandits were real, Don Diego," he explained lowering his head ashamed. "I was cheated like a newborn. They were here after me, to try to kill me."

"Oh? But you defeated them?" I surmised politely.

"Yes, we caught all of them. Two during the fight, one managed to escape but was later caught by the lancers."

What a pity. I intended to hunt him later this night.

"I am glad to hear it, _Capitán_. And Zorro? Did he appear?"

"Oh, yes. He did," Barcelo nodded, then opened his mouth as if he intended to say something more but resigned.

"Good!" I exclaimed merrily, pretending not to notice his hesitation. "So, it was not in vain! At least now you have the proof you wanted!"

Sad, but the _capitán_ turned his eyes from me and didn't answer anything.

* * *

The next few days after this night were rather peaceful, as Barcelo left the pueblo to escort the prisoners as far as to Monterey. I honestly hoped that he had no further seeking vengeance enemies on his tail. My first intervention seemed to awake his suspicions against me, the second – probably lessened them, but I didn't know it for sure and wouldn't like to risk the third one.

As for now, I was fully enjoying Barcelo's absence: riding my palomino without having to pretend to be as clumsy as sack of mud and drinking freely with Sergeant Garcia without having to control my voice and laughter.

And, of course, I was impatiently waiting for the next meeting with Professor Altamirano – my surprise for him was ready. What was taking him so long? First he was waiting for the workers and the materials, now the workers were sitting idly in the camp – and they were paid for days, as I remembered - and he was waiting for some other materials. Oh, and for that experienced assistant. Strange organization… But how, how could I get into the bottom of it?...

I considered it all sitting in the tavern, by my favorite table in the corner with perfect view for the whole sala, sipping wine and testing new cigars I bought a moment before, when into the room entered Damián Peraza… with Sergeant Garcia. The same fact, that they came together was very unusual and immediately drew my attention… But then… Then Sergeant Garcia approached the wall near the main entrance, hesitated for a moment, took deep breath, hesitated once again, let the air out of his lungs… hesitated… and ripped off the wall the wanted poster. My wanted poster.

When the rustle of the cramped paper sounded in the room, all heads turned to the sergeant and deadly silence fell over the sala. The sergeant looked around a bit abashed, shrugged his shoulders and with small movement of his head pointed at the _magistrado, _as if he wanted to say 'Ask him! I am only following his orders!'

The inn-keeper was the first one to break the silence:

"Does it… does it mean that the Fox is no longer wanted?" he asked unsurely.

"He is wanted," replied Peraza with his usual cold voice, "but not 'dead or alive'. Of course, _Capitán_ Barcelo after his return may set a reward for the information of _el Zorro's_ hiding… but now only the lancers have the right for the pursuit and fight with this man… If anyone else kills the Fox, he will answer for murder."

I cannot say that I was especially afraid of being killed by headhunters, but it looks like a nice gesture. A gesture of good will - to show the Fox that the _magistrado_ can keep his word… and offer him a full amnesty as the thanks for cooperation. And why do I find it so doubtful?

"Are you sure it is within your competencies, _Magistrado_?" I asked innocently. "Don't you need the governor's approval?"

Peraza didn't even bother to turn in my direction, only raised the hand in which he keeps some folded piece of paper. I moved my eyesight to Sergeant Garcia with silent question and he nodded in confirmation.

So he did write to the governor… To hide the contradictory emotions and certain confusion, I moved back into my chair and took a draw of the cigar.

In this moment my father entered the sala and froze, staring at the empty wall and Sergeant Garcia with crumbled poster in his hands. Then he looked at me, seeking explanation.

I pushed toward him the box with cigars that was lying on the table in front of me:

"Would you like to try? The new shipment, straight from San Pedro. Excellent, in my opinion."

True, maybe Peraza managed to surprise me - but it is still not a reason to fall into his arms…

* * *

_Capitán_ Barcelo returned the very same evening. I did not see his reaction for the unpleasant surprise the _magistrado _prepared for him, but it resulted in a letter inviting us – and many other _haciendados_ - for an official meeting. As the letter was delivered in no more than an hour after his return and the meeting was settled for the next day, I guess he must have gotten quite irritated.

Barcelo has invited not necessarily the richest _haciendados_, but these, whose ranchos had the biggest acreage. It was obvious that he will try somehow to counteract the strange decision of the _magistrado_.

I didn't have to wait long to learn the details, because as soon as all the guests crowded in his office, he straightly came to the subject:

"Senores, as you certainly know, since yesterday the lancers are left alone in their struggle against the outlaw known as _el Zorro_. I will have, of course, announced the reward for the information of his hiding, but I am convinced that through the _magistrado's_ action I will be deprived of any help I might eventually receive from the local people. That is why I invited you here – to ask you for your help in fulfilling my duties, concerning the safety of the whole community. You are the leaders of this society, you are responsible for its well-being just as I am…"

"We are all humble servants of the Crown… But what exactly do you want from us, _Capitán_?" asked cautiously my father.

"If you happen to see the Fox on your ranchos, if you could – well, I cannot ask you to fight him – but at least… detain him and let me know as soon as possible about his presence… If I won't be informed about his appearances, it will be easier to catch the wind in the _sierra_, than this bandit! And my time here is not unlimited! I must know, Senores that I can count on you!" Barcelo finished and looked around with tension.

I almost jumped, my whole attention drawn to his one small sentence… Limited time... Finally he started to speak about the end of his assignment… Temporary assignment – how beautiful it sounds… If I only knew how exactly limited his time is…

In the meantime, the dons started to whisper among themselves, but the first one to take voice aloud was Don Nacho Torres. He was always a bit too quick to speak his mind and during Monastario's times he got himself into quite serious troubles because of this… To help him was the first mission of the Fox.

"I can promise you one thing, _Capitán_," he said fiercely. "Whenever the Fox appears on my rancho, he can count on every help I will be able to provide him with!"

"You support the traitor so openly, Senor?" asked incredulously Barcelo, but he seemed to be more desperate than angry.

"Traitor who saved me and my family!" shouted Don Nacho and Don Cornelio put calmingly the hand on his shoulder.

"Please… let's not use the words we might regret later… Yet, with all due respect to your office, _Capitán_, I must state that I have a debt of gratitude to the Fox too and I will not do anything that could harm him," he said calmly.

Poor Barcelo rubbed his temple. I guess that he just had to face the facts quite unfitting to the black and white word of his… Well, my dear _Capitán_, that's how the life is - complicated…

However, he could be a little consorted by Don Juan who got so irritated by previous speakers that he jumped on his feet and almost shouted:

"I believe that the place of the bandit is in jail… or on the gallows! You can count on me, _Capitán_!"

Do I have to explain that the paths of Don Juan and Zorro crossed once too, and the result of this encounter was not in favor of the rich _haciendado_?

"Gracias," nodded Barcelo and turned to my father, knowing that his decision may be decisive for many gathered men. "Don Alejandro?"

My father hesitated for a moment, searching for the arguments to refuse Barcelo without raising the new suspicions. Senor Torres misunderstood his silence and urged him:

"Alejandro, don't you remember what this man has done for us?"

"I do, but…"

"I do not believe that _el Zorro _causes the threat to the community," interrupted Don Ignatio Pulido, Rosa's father, "but you must remember, Alejandro, that he causes the threat to our family. We should contribute to catching this outlaw and unmasking him to regain our peace. Remember that Diego almost lost his life to clear himself from the _capitán's_ suspicions."

Don Ignatio finds my pacifistic attitude very exotic and is surprisingly proud to have such original, serious son-in-law. Unfortunately, he feels obliged to protect me from these who misuse my meek disposition.

"Indeed, Don Ignatio, you have a point, but it is so ridiculous!" remarked Don Augustin. "Many strangers who came to our pueblo were at first misled by some physical similarity between our young friend and Zorro… but we who have known Diego for many years know it is absurd! I am sure that the _capitán_ has realized it too by now."

"That is all behind us after that little adventure in the tavern, isn't it, _Capitán_?" I asked lightly, trying not to show how much I would like to hear the confirmation.

Barcelo looked a bit uncomfortably around the room. It was obvious that he would prefer to avoid replying this question, yet he felt obliged to the honest answer.

"Don Diego… forgive me… it is not that I accuse you of anything, but… it wouldn't be absolutely impossible for you to get out of this cellar and then return…"

Well, not impossible, true, but very difficult! Why is he so ungrateful, for all the effort I made to give him an appropriate show? The _capitán_ continued:

"I was even wondering, Don Diego… Why did you insist on playing the role of the bait? If you were reluctant to meet the Fox, it would be much safer for you to stay among the lancers… There in the tavern… if Zorro knew about the trap and your part in it, you could be really endangered… And yet you weren't afraid of it."

_Touche_.

"I didn't think about it, _Capitán_, but now when you say so, it sounds quite logical," I replied honestly, trying to seem oblivious and bored.

I would very much like to finish this subject. Unfortunately, after my calm answer and no reaction of my father, Don Ignatio decided that it is time for him to start the battle.

"That is enough, _Capitán_ Barcelo! You almost get him killed, do you now insist on continuing this nonsense?"

My _capitán_ shook his head truly embarrassed:

"I have already expressed my sorrow and apologized for this misfortunate incident. I said I am not making any accusations… but it is my duty to explore each possible trail. Logic may lead us against the heart sometimes. As I do not want endanger neither Don Diego's life, nor our friendship anymore, I am eager to finish it right now and here," having said that he turned toward me and said solemnly: "Don Diego, please, just give me your word of honor that you are not _el Zorro_, and my suspicions will never head for you anymore… I will respect the de la Vega word," he looked at me almost pleadingly.

_Dios_, I will cope with my enemies, but I need some help when it comes to my friends.

So it is that easy to corner the Fox. Only man of honor like Barcelo could come into such simple and effective idea.

In a moment of panic, I looked at my father seeking advice and he slightly nodded allowing me to… perjury.

Why shouldn't I do it? Since I have donned the mask I have been lying night and day, lying with my words, with my deeds, with my gestures… lying to my enemies and to my friends… Why do not just think about it as another lie?

Because I have never ever straightly denied being the Fox. I laughed, I said it is ridiculous, I said I do not have such skills, I said many things… but I have never said explicitly "no". Oh, mostly because I usually managed to avoid being asked about it… but I preserved this grain of truth in my life…

Oh, well. It is not about the truth. I am proud of who I am. I will not renounce it… in such way…

So I had to think quickly.

Now I jumped to my feet, calling into my face the expression of outrage and hurt pride.

"I am very patient man, _Capitán_, but even my patience has some limits, and you just crossed them! You want me to swear that I am not a bandit? Swear on the honor of my family? The name of de la Vegas has been respected for centuries, we come from _el Cid _himself and now you want me to use this name in one line with some renegade? Well, I'd rather die! Even I know how to respect my family's honor! You may arrest me if you want, but I will not humiliate myself in such manner!"

After this beautiful speech I straightened, took deep breath and left the office, even without my usual "with your permission, Senores" – that should show the best how angry I am. Through the open doors I could hear my father saying proudly:

"I apologize for him. It is de la Vega's temper, he must have took some of it after me," in a tone clearly indicating that he was not sorry at all and leaving the room, loudly slamming the doors.

When I waited for him near our horses, I could see Barcelo leaning over his desk, so unhappy and ashamed that I almost felt sorry for him. I knew he felt awful. However, I also knew that when his embarrassment fades he will realise the only thing in my performance that really matters: that I didn't give him the word.

My father and I mounted our horses and leave the _cuartel_. When we were outside the pueblo, he turned to me and says heavily:

"You did what was right, Diego, but I would prefer you gave him that word."

How hard it is to please my father! Shouldn't he be satisfied that the de la Vega name was not tarnished with the false oath?

"Father! For the first time, I get the impression that you would be ready to sacrifice the de la Vega honor!" I joked to hearten him, but my father turned his head so that I couldn't see his face and whispered dimly:

"I am definitely not ready to sacrifice my son."

I tried to smile wryly, but something clenched my throat. I am not used to my father showing fear… even the fear about me.

The rest of our way to the hacienda we made in silence.


	7. Lovebirds 1

**Lovebirds (1)**

"And what in the hell is that?" asked Peraza staring at the piece of paper I laid on the table in front of him.

The Dons sitting around the table craned their necks to see the colorful scheme on it, whereas I looked at the _magistrado _with innocent, a bit surprised eyes.

"That is the map," I explained patiently.

My father shook his head and leant it on his hand to hide a grin, knowing already what I was driving at.

"I can see so much," snorted Peraza. "And on this map is?..."

"Rancho de la Vega," I replied with undisturbed peace. Then, however, I noticed that if I prolong the play any longer, the _magistrado _will lose the rest of his control. No matter how delighted the other Dons would be with the scrimmage during our dignified meeting, in my situation it would be rather unadvisable, so I proceeded with the explanations:

"I marked here all the areas, where, according to our _vaqueros_ and natives experienced in finding the underground springs, are no chances of finding the hidden assets of water."

"You have made quite an effort, Don Diego, to prepare it. Can you explain its purpose?" Peraza asked a bit calmer, but I could see that he tensed even more than before. He already knew the purpose of my map.

"You will surely agree, _Magistrado, _that the method of Professor Altamirano only then will be worth its price, if he will be able to find the water where the others cannot. If the Professor agrees to proceed with his tests on our rancho and finds the water on one… well maybe two areas I marked for him… my father and I will be more than eager to support him with all our means."

My father raised his head and nodded in agreement, although he was still covering his mouth to hide amusement.

Peraza took the map seeming to be a bit confused and his glance unknowingly ran… no, not to the Professor. To this 'experienced assistant' they waited so long for, who was sitting humbly behind them.

"What do you think about it, Professor?" I asked lightly.

"Well, it is quite a correct way to test the hypothesis," replied the professor rather shyly… and then moved back as if scared with his opinion.

"If the professor does not object – and neither of you, _Senores_," Peraza looked around the sala returning to his usual cool disposition, "we can of course proceed as Don Diego proposes."

"Feel free to visit our rancho with all the equipment and men you will find necessary, Professor," I said bowing to Altamirano. "If you agree, I will be more than willing to assist you."

"That will be not necessary," suddenly said the assistant, cutting off the conversation.

For a moment all Dons looked at him surprised. No matter how experienced he was, how valuable his skills were – he should never take the decision before the professor and the _magistrado _voiced their opinion.

I felt a joyous thrill. _Senor _Oscar Rivera, not only the experienced assistant of Professor Altamirano, but obviously also the man who can impose his will on our proud _magistrado_. Have I finally found a first weak point in Peraza's plan?

The _magistrado _noticed my curious glance and bit his lips with irritation.

"_Senores_, with this I think our meeting is over. We hope to provide you soon with the first results," he bowed quite formally and the Dons stared to leave the tavern.

My father was detained by his friends and I waited for him near our carriage, observing people leaving the tavern. Observing Peraza and his friends. Bernardo shook my arm pointing me how they entered the _magistrado's_ office.

"I know Bernardo, I noticed it too…" I replied with pensiveness. It was Peraza's office… he was the high-rank official… he was the host… and yet he was not the last to enter… The assistant waved for him to go into the room and closed the doors behind them as if he was the one who takes the decisions here. Definitely, _Senor _Rivera deserved my attention.

"It is a good day, Bernardo," I whispered. "Fertile one, I would say… Altamirano's assistant finally arrived… My father's prize mare is just having a foal and he will be busy with her the whole evening… Moneta Castenada has invited all ladies to present to them her newborn and Rosa will have to be there too… It seems I am going to have a nice quiet evening for myself…"

Bernardo smiled knowingly and made cautiously a well-known small sign of the "Z" in the air. I winked to him in confirmation and we both chuckled like two boys planning to play truant.

* * *

Theoretically, after the sundown the Altamirano's assistant should already be accommodated in the camp, but I didn't head for this direction, only straight to the pueblo.

My intuition was right. There was still light in the windows of Peraza's office, so I sneaked to the yard and clung to the back window like the big black bat… And I wasn't at all surprised hearing voices of the _magistrado _and Oscar Rivera.

"It is a small pueblo. Not much to do here, I guess?" the newcomer asked casually. Too casually, as for the worker speaking to the _magistrado_.

"It depends on what kind of entertainment one seeks," I heard Damián replying in his usual cold voice.

"Well, at least the vine is exquisite. What sort of vintage is it?"

"I don't know. I order it in the tavern."

"Then it is a good tavern."

"You can accommodate yourself there if you want."

"No, I think it is expected that I would be staying in the camp. But I will definitely order some wine from the innkeeper."

The wine. Certainly an important topic for good people in Los Angeles, but I would rather like to hear…

"That young man this morning, that with the map, he is a stubborn one, isn't he?"

Exactly. Some luck at last.

"He was dubious from the beginning and we had a few disagreements, but he has no influence here," Damiá

Strange, when Peraza was speaking with _Zorro, _he voiced quite different opinion.

"And you have more, _Magistrado_?" The way Rivera spoke made the question sound - offensive, the title – mocking.

"I do. Besides, I have one more asset in my hand."

I threw a quick glance into the room. Rivera casually strolled through the office with the glass of wine in his hand, while Damián stood stiff and motionless, near the window, not tearing his eyes from the other man.

After his last sentence Rivera turned to him with a spark of interest.

"Ah, yes, your mysterious outlaw. When will he give you an answer?"

"I do not know, I cannot send for him!" finally Peraza sounded irritated. "I did my best to encourage him and he will come. But I cannot tell you when."

"It better be soon. Anyway, I am not going to resign because of one nosey man. If your black friend lingers, I will take care about that fancy _caballero_ and his map."

Finally. The _magistrado_ not only is an interesting man, he also has interesting friends…

"You will do nothing without my consent. Since you insisted on coming here, now you will follow my orders," answered Peraza with the edge in his voice.

However, his steely tone didn't make the impression on the 'assistant' as I heard him laughing.

"Oh, show a little more enthusiasm! The whole idea will serve you as well! You treat me like an enemy, whereas I am doing you a favor!"

"If you want to do me a favor, go to hell where you belong and never come back again."

For a moment I thought I misheard the last sentence, or that was not the _magistrado _speaking. He spoke quietly but instead of his usual controlled coldness there was so many emotions in his voice, so much… hatred…

If Damián hates me till his last dying breath, this man he would haunt long after that moment.

Then I heard Rivera laughing again. There was amusement in this laugh, but also some dark satisfaction… I didn't remember hearing anyone so… evilly content. What was between these two men?

Instinctively I moved up a little to see their faces, but unfortunately Damián must have been staying too near to the window in this moment, as I heard him saying with anxiety:

"I saw some shadow behind the window… I will check it."

I didn't wait for him to come, only crept down and poured with darkness of the night.

As I sneaked through the pueblo to the place where I hid Tornado, I tried to think logically about what I heard. The silent curse of the _magistrado_, that devilish laugh of the other man… The hatred between them still made me shiver. Pity that I didn't manage to overhear something more… But one thing was certain: if these two men were together in one undertaking, it couldn't be anything good.

Just as I was leaving the town, I noticed that I pass near the house in which Moneta Castenada was hosting the ladies - Rosa among them. I thought it would be nice to see her even from a distance to get over the impression the dark conversation I witnessed made on me. Besides, I felt a little discomfort, close to remorse, for sneaking out without her knowledge. So I cautiously neared to the house, hiding behind the fig-trees growing around it.

I had indeed luck tonight! I saw my Rosita in the small garden behind the house sitting alone on a small bench, with her hands wrapped over her now quite visible belly, looking so content and so lovely, that I had to tell it to her right now.

I tossed a few stones under her feet to draw her attention. When she raised her head and noticed me, she immediately beamed with the most radiant smile, looked cautiously around and ran to me into the shadow of the tree.

"I should tell you off a little," she said pointing to my outfit, but her smile denied her words. "You couldn't miss the occasion…."

"The occasion to tell you, how beautiful you look tonight," I interrupted her quickly and she smiled even wider.

"How clever! I forgot for what I wanted to tell you off," she chuckled.

"How is the little Castenada? Does he manage to fulfill the expectations of his family?" I asked with a grin. Everyone knew that Don Cornelio awaited his first grandson equally impatiently as my father.

"He is either crying or eating, so I dare say yes, he behaves exactly as for the caballero in his age befits."

"And what were you doing here alone? You got bored?" I smiled knowingly.

"To death," Rosa complained shaking her head.

"I am sorry for you. Unfortunately, I cannot entertain you much longer. I should go."

"Oh, what I would give to ride with you!..." Rosa sighed with such jealousy that I chuckled.

"What? With me? The lady alone with the bandit in the middle of the night? What would people say about it?" I asked mockingly.

"Oh, that is all right, my husband is not jealous," she chuckled too, winking to me a bit challengingly.

You would be surprised, my sweet lady… But I really had to go before someone started to look for her, so I only bent and whispered to her ear:

"Well, my wife is, very much, so I am sorry, but I cannot take you with me."

"Oh, just enjoy the ride, while I will be dying of boredom here."

"One of the risks connected with fulfilling the social duties of respected citizens." I laughed. Well, in two days Don Cornelio will organize a party for all his friends to celebrate the happy event in his family and I will have to take these risks as well.

I waited in the darkness until Rosa entered the house and then took Tornado - who in the meantime accommodated himself among Moneta's flowerbeds - and returned to the hacienda.

* * *

On the next day I didn't have to hide my escapade before my father and Rosa. When I related to them what I heard – especially about Rivera's threats – my father finally agreed that there are reasons for Zorro to investigate.

As I knew that Senor Rivera intended to stay at the camp, this time I rode there - just before sundown, to be able to overhear some of his conversations before the workers go to sleep. I mentioned earlier that the camp was situated in the plain field, so it was not easy to near to it unnoticed. I had to make a big circle, using the cover of rare bushes. I was still in quite considerable distance from the camp, when on the small meadow in front of me I saw the sweetest possible picture: Carmelita sitting with the armful of flowers over her skirt and Private Sanchez kneeling over blossoming bushes and picking the next bunches for her.

Miguel Sanchez was the youngest lancer in the _cuartel_ and it was nice of Barcelo to send him for the safe and calm task of guarding Altamirano's camp. However, I believe that the _capitán_ would regret his decision knowing how his flirtatious niece and the boy used this occasion.

Yet, they looked so happy and innocent together that I decided not to disturb them and approach the camp from the other side… or maybe even resign for tonight at all… return home… maybe first picking some flowers myself…

Suddenly, I noticed that Miguel, who in the search for flowers neared to the far end of the meadow, dropped the bouquet and laid on the ground, crawling deeper into the bushes. At first I didn't know what drew his attention, but then I saw some men sitting behind the plants.

It was obvious that they wanted to hide before any prying eyes and nothing good might come out of the young lancer trying to overhear them, so I cautiously moved in their direction.

I didn't even reach the meadow when the men must have noticed Sanchez as I heard some shouts and noises of the fight. Now I rushed toward them without hiding myself anymore as quickly as I could – and reached them just in time to knock out with my whip the blade from the attacker's hand - Rivera's hand - as he was intending to thrust it into the breast of the already unconscious boy.

Rivera yelled with pain moving back and I used the whip on his companion – one of the workers from the camp - with the same result. The sight of Miguel, who minute before was picking flowers so merrily and now laid still with blood on his jacket, made me lose my temper and I would gladly continue, but Rivera raised his hands and shouted:

"We do not want to fight you!"

"You should have thought about it before you tried to kill this man," I replied angrily, but I couldn't hit an unarmed man.

"I thought he is a thief. Listen, it doesn't matter. You are the Fox, aren't you? I want speak to you," Rivera spoke quickly, gasping and nursing his hurt hand.

I am definitely tired with the _magistrado_ and his friends wanting to speak to me.

"Either fight or get away!" I shouted and cracked the whip an inch from his face.

Rivera must have understood that I am not in the mood for the conversation and disappeared with his companion in admirable haste.

As soon as they left I knelt near Miguel. He was so young – what kind of children do they enroll now to the military? When I was his age my father hardly ever let me go outside after the sundown. I had to sneak out through the secret passage.

Luckily his injuries were not severe. He must have got a blow on his head that knocked him unconscious and a knife cut in his arm – but the wound was shallow and probably no stitches would be needed.

In this moment Carmelita ran to us and, without even casting a glance on me, leant sobbing over Miguel and gently backed his head.

"This is my fault," she cried.

"Of course not," I answered peaceably and took off Miguel's jacket to dress the cut.

When Carmelita saw the wound, she gasped and wavered, but bravely remained by his side, though I wanted to move her back. In the lack of any other bandage, I tore a strip from my cape and wrapped tightly the boy's arm. With another piece of black material I prepared quite nice sling.

"He will be fine, _Senorita_, it is nothing serious," I said to the weeping girl.

"Thank you," she whispered, stroking the boy's hair.

"Actually, I should thank you, _Senorita_," I stated slowly, knowing that I may have not another occasion. "You helped me and I have to thank you… However, you shouldn't have taken your uncle's documents, and please, do not do it again."

"Documents?" she raised on me her teary eyes in confusion.

"The reports," I reminded her.

"The reports?" she repeated blankly once more and I understood she had no idea what I was talking about.

Another riddle for me to solve… Well, it must wait.

"Forget it, _Senorita_. I was mistaken. Now, we should try to wake Private Sanchez, don't you think? Have you got water or anything else to drink?"

"Miguel had brandy…" she whispered shyly.

I raised my eyebrows but didn't comment on it, only took the flask she handed me and moistened the lips of the unconscious boy.

Miguel woke quite quickly and for a moment just blinked watching his wrapped hand and trying to remember the events.

"_Senor_ Zorro… Thank you…" he whispered as he understood what must have happened.

I was afraid that the young soldier might be confused in the companion of the outlaw, but he only watched me – or rather stared at me – for a moment, without any anger or fear, only with curiosity and a bit of awe. I almost chuckled, slightly ashamed - Private Sanchez looked now as the boy who met the hero of his favorite tales.

"How do you feel, _Senor_?" I asked helping him on his feet.

"Good," he nodded, then looked anxiously around, "Carmelita! I mean, _Senorita_, are you all right?"

"I am," she stated weakly and burst out with a new wave of crying, hiding her head in his shirt.

I coughed slightly interrupting the scene - Miguel was definitely too young to resist such treatment. Though, on the second thought, I doubt if the age changes anything here…

"Have you got horses here?" I asked, but they shook their heads.

"We walked," explained Carmelita.

"I cannot unfortunately enter the pueblo with you, but I can walk with you at least a mile in its direction, so one of you will be able to ride on Tornado," I said and whistled.

"_Senorita_," Miguel pointed the saddle when Tornado reached us. Carmelita immediately refused:

"No, Miguel, you, you are wounded."

"I feel fine! I would never ride, while you…"

"No, Miguel."

I waited patiently with folded arms.

"Maybe we can ride together?" finally Miguel proposed shyly and his eyes glittered with enthusiasm on the very same thought of sitting in the one saddle with the girl. Evidently he was recovering quickly.

On no, my young friend, not when I am chaperoning here.

"I think you are well enough to walk, _Senor_," I cut the discussion and send him a reproachful glance. The boy reddened so ashamed that as the consolation I let him to take Tornado's reins in his healthy hand.

The sun was just setting down, the evening was beautiful, so we walked rather slowly. I guess that neither Carmelita, nor Miguel, had the reasons to hurry to the meeting with Barcelo and I used the occasion to learn what Miguel managed to overhear before Rivera discovered his presence.

"Actually, nothing, _Senor_…" he said with hesitation. "I do not know why they got so angry… Well, they spoke about the _magistrado_ rather disrespectfully, so maybe they were afraid I will repeat it to him?"

"Oh? And what exactly did they say?"

"Well, this Rivera… he said he will call the _magistrado _to order. Those are the words he used."

"That's all? Or did he say something more?"

"That's all. Oh, just before he heard me, he started to say something like 'this idiot Guinassi' but he didn't finish. That's really all," he looked at me apologetically.

Not much indeed. I didn't know any Guinassi in Los Angeles. The eavesdropping on the _magistrado_ and his companions was surprisingly hard…

"I wonder how he will explain the attack on you to your _capitán_," I noticed. "He will probably try to put the blame on you – but luckily there was the _senorita_ to witness the truth."

Miguel and Carmelita exchanged anxious glances.

"Do we have to tell him about it?" she asked shyly. "If my uncle hears about our… encounter we will be both in trouble."

"And if you keep silent and the _magistrado _issues a claim against Private Sanchez, he will be in even bigger trouble," I said rather severely. The worst fate that could meet her was that Barcelo wouldn't let her go to the party of Don Cornelio, whereas Miguel may even be expelled from the army, if the _magistrado _presents the facts in suitable light, and the boy has no witness for his defense.

"Why should she do it? These men were doubtlessly guilty," replied Miguel, obviously decided to protect the honor and… hm… neck of his lady.

"And that is why he may accuse you," I muttered. "Besides, I do not think that lying to your _capitán_ is…" I started in a bit lecturing tone, but stopped as I noticed the group on the road ahead of us, and finished with a sigh "…possible."

"The second lancer who guarded the camp… he must have heard the fight and run for the c_apitán_," whispered Miguel suddenly pale.

There was Barcelo with Sergeant Garcia and five or six lancers riding toward the camp; they halted abruptly on our sight no farther than fifty yards ahead of us. I agree that we looked quite peculiar: Carmelita on my horse, Miguel with the sling made of my cape holding the reins and finally, my humble person.

Confused lancers raised the pistols, but Barcelo waved for them not to shoot – they could too easily hit Carmelita or Sanchez who stood behind me. I managed to notice how Reyes wanted to remind that he has a lasso, but Sergeant Garcia poked his ribs and the poor corporal moved quietly back. Nice gesture, but if the sergeant continues this way, sooner or later he will get himself into trouble…

However, as for now I had to take care about my young companions.

"I am afraid I got you in trouble, my young friend," I said with regret. "Just tell the _capitán_ I forced you to walk with me, I threatened you, or…"

"I just decided I will not lie to my _capitán_," he said with rather willful smile. "Now ride, _Senor_, before you are in trouble. Carmelita!" he reached for her and the scared girl slipped off the horse.

"No need for unreasonable haste," I smiled, mounted Tornado, bowed to Carmelita, and rode toward Barcelo.

"_Capitán_! If you want, chase me! But after the return do not forget to ask the _magistrado _why his men wanted to kill your soldier!" I shouted, seeing with pleasure the angry confusion on his face.

Then I waited politely till he waved for Garcia to take care about Carmelita and Private Sanchez and only when he ordered the lancers "After him!" I bent to the black neck of my friend and whispered:

"All right, Tornado. End of walking with the ladies. Let's show them what you can do!"

Tornado reared so high that I had to cling to the saddle, turned on the spot and jumped toward the hills with such speed that shadows of the sunset blurred in my eyes into the unclear smudges and all I heard was the wind hissing in my ears…

Yes, we both, my black friend and me, had a beautiful, enjoyable evening ahead of us…

* * *

Later that evening, when we were already in the cave and Bernardo helped me to take care about Tornado – very happy and satisfied Tornado who proved once more that he is not only the fastest horse in Southern California, but still the only one that can jump over Diablo's Gulch – I shared with my observant friend one small, but persistent riddle that was bothering me:

"Bernardo, it was not Carmelita who took Monastario's reports."

When Bernardo looked at me with a silent question I shrugged my shoulders:

"Either Sergeant Garcia lost them, or the Fox has a friend in the _cuartel_."

Bernardo raised two fingers and looked at me questioningly.

"Which is more likely? Both, I believe. The Fox has a friend in the _cuartel _and it is the sergeant," I smiled.

Bernardo smiled too. I knew he liked the sergeant – one of very few people in Los Angeles who noticed Bernardo's silent presence and never forgot to greet him with a friendly gesture... And my observant friend remembered it and appreciated…

Oh, yes, the explanation seemed to be simple and logical, I thought ordering the harness.

"The sergeant lost the papers because Barcelo told him he specifically counts for the reports from the first six months of Zorro's career… And our dear sergeant got used to the Fox, he told me that himself…" I shared my thoughts with Bernardo and he calmly nodded, taking the lantern and heading for the passage.

Yet, for me the riddle was not over.

"Yes, the sergeant does not wish Barcelo success… Do you remember, Bernardo, how often he came worried to our hacienda and complained about Barcelo's latest plans?"

Bernardo petrified for a moment, hearing how I accented the innocent words 'to our hacienda'.

"Uhum, he complained about them to me…" I nodded and at his questioning glance spread my hands. "I don't know, maybe he is just used to talking to me? Maybe he has no one else to confide? But – all in all – it is rather unsettling," I sighed.


	8. Lovebirds 2

**Lovebirds (2)**

I was very anxious how my last adventure finished for Miguel and Carmelita, so the next day early on the morning I rode to the pueblo. I met Sergeant Garcia on the plaza, heading for the _cuartel_.

"Don Diego!" he exclaimed joyfully on my sigh, "pity you weren't at the pueblo yesterday at the evening! You missed a great row!"

"Oh? Between whom?"

"The _capitán_ and the _magistrado_. I tell you, Don Diego, both know how to yell!" the sergeant dreamily closed his eyes. Indeed, that must have been one of the rare occasions when the sergeant witnessed the public row without being the part of it – the part that everyone else is shouting at.

"And what was the reason?" I asked leaning to him with interest.

"You don't know, Don Diego? A scrimmage between Altamirano's workers and Private Sanchez who was to guard the camp."

"Ha, that is interesting! But explain to me, Sergeant, if that lancer was there to protect the workers, why did it end in a brawl between them?"

When I look at Sergeant Garcia with such naïve confusion, he is never able to resist the urge to explain to me everything, even if it would involve a little… indiscretion…

"Well, Sanchez was to guard the camp, but instead he was… he met the c_apitán's_ niece and… and was just showing her the shortcut to the pueblo, when he noticed some men behind the bushes. They behaved rather suspiciously, so he tried to overhear their conversation, but they noticed him soon and attacked. The boy is sure they would kill him, if Zorro didn't appear."

"Zorro? Zorro was there?" I opened wide my eyes. Oh, I just love to feign this surprise…

"Oh, yes. You didn't know, Don Diego? He scared them away. Miguel told me about it, when I accompanied him and the _senorita_ to the pueblo and the _capitán_ was chasing Zorro. "

"So the _capitán_ finally met Zorro once again? And had he any luck with catching him this time?"

"Of course not," the sergeant looked at me as if I have just said something very stupid. His faith in the Fox is very reassuring… Well, now it is the time for the key question:

"The _capitán_ must have been disappointed with Private Sanchez? The lancer that uses the outlaw's help instead of trying to arrest him?..."

"No, why, Don Diego?" the sergeant surprised honestly. "The _capitán_ just sent him to Doctor Hernandez. He didn't even rebuke him for... ehm… for showing the shortcut to the _senorita_," he finished clumsily and I pretended not to notice his slip.

"Anyway, what about the row with the _magistrado_? How did he explain the behavior of the workers?

"The _magistrado_ said these workers thought it is a thief sneaking to the camp," sighed the sergeant shrugging his shoulders.

"In the uniform?"

"They said they didn't notice it," the sergeant raised the eyebrows in the same way I did. Even he didn't believe it. Whatever could be said about the uniforms of our lancers – they were definitely very difficult not to notice.

"All in all, the _magistrado _paid the fine for them and the _capitán _recalled his lancers from the camp," finished Garcia.

"Sergeant, this all is very interesting. You know I had my own suspicions concerning teh _magistrado. _I think I will go and talk with the _capitán_," I said patting his shoulder and we headed for the gate of the _cuartel_.

Isn't it also interesting why during that short conversation the sergeant kept confirming if I really haven't heard about the yesterday's events? Maybe I am overreacting, but…

"Oh, I have almost forgotten, Sergeant. I wanted to ask, from which rancho did the _cuartel_ order the supplies recently, Barbossa or La Brea?" I asked innocently when we were crossing the _cuartel's_ yard.

The sergeant kept silent long, too long for such simple question.

"Both," he replied finally. "Depends on the stock. Why do you ask, Don Diego?"

"Oh, my father was just curious, and I didn't remember," I stated lightly, "shall we go in?" I pointed the doors to Barcelo's office.

The sergeant nodded and the lancer staying in front of the doors let us in.

I entered the room and greeted Barcelo cautiously:

"Buenos dias, _Capitán_,"

Barcelo replied "Buenos dias, Don Diego" with the same reservation.

It was our first meeting since the quarrel in the same room so neither of us knew what to expect. To break the awkward mood I came straightly to the point.

"I heard what happened yesterday in the camp of Altamirano's workers and came to talk about it."

Barcelo looked at me questioningly and I explained:

"You know, _Capitán_, that I had many doubts about the _magistrado's_ intentions and I believe that the last events confirm my suspicions."

"He told me that _Senor_ Rivera didn't know that lancers were to guard the camp… that he thought it was a thief and before he noticed the uniform, the scrimmage already begun," replied Barcelo. Well, at least, he answered my question…

"And you believe it?" I asked simply.

Barcelo shrugged his shoulders just as the sergeant a moment before.

"I do not, but I have no proof that he is lying," he said a bit helplessly.

"He must be hiding something! Otherwise, why Rivera would be so… aggressive when he noticed that someone was listening to him?"

"I know, I agree… but Sanchez didn't hear anything suspicious," the _capitán_ sighed and continued: "Since we are already discussing this subject - Don Diego, I knew about your doubts and when I was in Monterey I tried to get some information about Altamirano. It seems that he really is the professor from Europe… I even managed to find some books he wrote. I borrowed them for you, but I didn't manage to give them to you, as just after my return…" he looked at me with hesitation.

"I know, _Capitán_, I am sorry," I said spreading my hands. "I am afraid I overreacted, but what you wanted from me was just… humiliating."

"I had good intentions," said quietly Barcelo lowering his eyes.

His voice was not as friendly as usual and he didn't say anything else. Rather understandable – the only thing he could add would be that I am the first person he suspects - and this not the information one should pass to the potential criminal...

"I know," I replied shortly. There was nothing else to say.

Yet, he still needed the proof. He couldn't do anything without the proof – just as I couldn't do anything without the proof to Peraza.

And in the meantime, I could use as much of the _capitán's_ help as it was possible, so I raised my head and said with energy:

"Anyway, _Capitán_, thank you for the books, I would gladly read them."

"You do not give up, Don Diego?" he asked with an involuntary smile.

"And you do, _Capitán_? It is obvious that something here just – just does not suit!"

"I know! I will never believe that Rivera didn't notice the uniform! It was not that dark," Barcelo spoke loudly, striding up and down through the room. Finally his observance was aimed at my enemy, not at me… "I am sure he would kill Sanchez, if… " he interrupted, obviously not wanting to speak the name of _el Zorro. _"Well, but what can I do?"

Suddenly he turned to the sergeant who during our conversation sat silently on his chair and asked:

"What would you do, Sergeant?"

"I? I would of course do… I would… I mean that I…" stuttered my sergeant surprised and finally gave up sighing: "I do not know, _Capitán_."

"Well, I do," stated slowly Barcelo, "You would wait for Zorro to solve the problem for you."

This statement was so unexpected that the sergeant and I almost jumped. The quiet voice made it even more accusing. The sergeant blinked a few times, and I could see from his face that he is both hurt and anxious.

As I think I have already said, I do not like when my friends are humiliated.

"You are unjust, _Capitán_. The Sergeant is a good soldier and does his best to fulfill his duty," I stated a bit too firmly and Garcia looked at me gratefully.

"Oh, yes," Barcelo waved his hand, lost deep in his thoughts, "but you cannot deny that Zorro seems to… you said once yourself, Don Diego, that Zorro only rides to prevent injustice… and he seems to have hands full of work… He is the one to fight banditos, to tame the greediness of landowners, to prevent scrimmages… even to protect my lancers."

Both the sergeant and I looked at Barcelo in disbelief. Was it really he praising the Fox? I felt a sparkle of hope. Yet, when the _capitán_ turned to us and I saw his eyes, I understood how vain my hopes were even before he continued to speak.

"Only I am spoiling this idyllic picture… Hunting your hero… Oh, I think I know for what hopes now the whole Los Angeles!" he stated bitterly. "I can imagine the suitable, teary end to this story everyone counts for: the Fox saves also my life one day and I resign from my mission and leave, full of admiration for his virtue and merits! Well, I will not!" he almost shouted, "No matter what happens! I maybe defeated, but I will not resign! Because he is an outlaw, and I know my duty!"

"No one says that you do not, _Capitán_," I said quietly.

My calm voice brought Barcelo back to his senses. For a moment stood in silence, breathing deeply.

"I am sorry, Don Diego, Sergeant, for this outburst. I just lost my control… Well, Don Diego, I will bring you the books," he finished rather clumsily and disappeared in the back room.

Sergeant Garcia and I set for a moment without a word. Finally the sergeant broke the silence.

"The _capitán_ is not well recently, I think he has never failed before. And yesterday… when he got the news about the scrimmage, he was really worried about Miguel. We rushed to the camp in such hurry… And when he learnt that Miguel would be dead without the help of the Fox… _Senorita_ probably too… It is complicated, Don Diego, but…"

"I understand," I simply nodded. "It is complicated."

"It is good his assignment will soon be over," sighed the sergeant.

"How long?" I asked obliviously not looking at him.

"Three weeks," the sergeant replied in the same way.

In this moment Barcelo returned with the stack of books. I took them, thanked and bade farewell. We were all to meet tonight at the hacienda of Don Cornelio, so I will have the possibility to continue the conversation about the _magistrado._ As for now, I felt so relieved I preferred to be alone for a moment. Three weeks! Three weeks only! It would be enough if I do nothing for three weeks, and he will not find his proof and leave…

* * *

I spent the whole afternoon reading the books from Barcelo. When the evening came, I quickly prepared myself for the party and waited for the others, continuing the lecture.

"Have you found anything interesting, Diego?" asked my father entering the sala with Rosa.

"Unfortunately not," I replied raising on them reddened eyes. "I have gone through three volumes so far, and… Well, they are all about Europe, and nothing about groundwater… but there can be no doubt that Altamirano is the real scientist."

"Strange, don't you think?" noticed my father. "This Rivera seems to be a common bandit. A bandit who has some hook on the _magistrado_. How could he get the help of a respected scientist?"

"I agree it is strange, Father. Maybe they have also some hook at the professor? I just do not know. They are so… watchful," I shook my head.

"Well, we can wait until we see the results of the tests. Time is working for us," my father consoled me. "You said that in three weeks Barcelo's leaving. Till this time we just have to be very cautious."

I smiled and nodded. Father was right. Peraza will probably desperately try to contact the Fox… and I will have to lure him as long as possible, so that his gloomy companion didn't try to take the things into his hands and threaten me or my family… but it shouldn't be too difficult. Time was working for us.

"Shall we go?" I asked merrily.

My father nodded and headed to the doors, but Rosita swirled in front of me for a moment, sighed, sobbed and finally followed him evidently dejected. Did I say something wrong? I looked confused at Bernardo seeking advice and he quickly signed something in the air.

Oh, the dress. The new dress I didn't notice. What would I do without Bernardo?

* * *

I praised the dress during the whole road to Don Cornelio's hacienda so when we arrived, Rosa was in perfect mood and the evening promised very pleasurable.

We were welcomed by Don Cornelio, so proud and happy that it crossed by my mind that if my father wasn't expecting his grandchild too, I would have a very difficult talk with him after the party. I squeezed Rosa's hand with gratitude and she smiled to me, as we were looking around the gathered guests.

"The _magistrado _cut his hair. I wonder why, he looked much better with the longer ones," whispered Rosa.

"If by that remark you wanted me to feel jealous it didn't work," I replied with sour smile.

"I haven't even thought about it, don't know why you came at such idea," Rosa shrugged her shoulders. "I just wondered why he did it. I believe that he never makes anything without a reason."

I passed the glance at the _magistrado _who in his usual black garment, white scarf and indeed very short fair hair looked now like one of the English Puritans from the Cromwell's times.

"It is rather interesting why he came at all. He wasn't very sociable so far…" I muttered.

"Father said he had to invite him," explained Moneta who just came to welcome us and noticed that we are looking at Peraza. "I am sorry, I didn't think he would come."

"Oh that's all right, Moneta," I calmed her with a smile. "We are not friends but I don't mind his company."

Moneta sent me an impatient glance. Though she was nice enough not say any comment in Rosa's presence, I knew what good people in Los Angeles said about my feud with Peraza… that if I would be man enough to carry a sword by my side, we should have settled all our disagreements in one decisive meeting…

I cannot deny that it was not a tempting solution… Difficult, very difficult to realize… but… in three weeks… when Barcelo's gone… who knows… maybe I will think of something…

I smiled to my thoughts. However, in this moment I noticed _Capitán_ Barcelo – indeed, he was alone, so poor Carmelita must have been left at home.

I left Rosa with Moneta and went to the _capitán_ to thank him for the books. The vision of his soon departure made me very friendly – oh, how I am going to miss him! – and I chatted with him merrily, as if no shadow of suspicions laid between us. I saw that he was at first surprised, then I think a little relieved, finally – a bit impatient… When I started to relate him the third book of Professor Altamirano, the only thing he dreamt about was getting rid of my company…

When I left the _capitán_, I welcomed Sergeant Garcia, drank a few mugs of wine with him, and finally, still in my most cheerful mood, started to search for Rosa.

And then the perfectly nice evening ended and troubles, real troubles began.

I couldn't see Rosa neither at the patio nor in the sala, so I looked for her in the backrooms. To my surprise, I found her alone in the library, talking with Peraza. Even before I entered the room I immediately saw from her posture that she is nervous, so I quickly neared to them. Yet Rosa didn't welcome me with relief.

"Diego, could you bring me something to drink?" she asked impatiently in a cold voice before I managed to utter the word.

I almost blinked with surprise. Well, that wasn't nice. Especially not in presence of Peraza. So, she must have had a good reason to send me away in such manner… I turned and left without a word, ignoring the ironic smirk on Peraza's face.

Though anxiety almost ate me, I waited for her patiently in the sala, not tearing my eyes from the doors of the library. When she finally left, I quickly grabbed her hand.

"What happened? What did he say to you?"

"He cannot suspect I told you, don't speak to me now," whispered Rosa frantically, avoiding my eyes and looking around the sala.

She was not nervous, she was panicked.

"He scared you, how?" I ignored her plea, only pulled her nearer to me, although some guests started to look at us.

"Leave me… Oh, it is too late, he is watching at us… Now pretend you are quarreling with me."

I didn't understand anything, so I decided that the wisest thing will be to obey.

"What did you say?" I asked a bit louder, in irritated voice.

"What you heard and I am not going to repeat it!" she replied in the same manner, pulled her hand from my grasp and left the sala quite ostensibly, heading for the garden.

I bit my lip and looked shyly around as if I felt embarrassed. Well, if Rosa wanted to make a public scene she succeeded. People around me politely turned their heads pretending they didn't notice anything, but I heard their curious whispers. Peraza was standing near the wall and grinning with such satisfaction, that I forgot all the caution and started to go toward him.

Luckily, before I got to him, I was stopped by Don Igantio who put the hand on my shoulder and led me into some deserted corner of the room, obviously in need for private conversation:

"I love my daughter but sometimes she cannot control her temper," he sighed apologetically.

"It is only natural in her condition," I replied instinctively, thinking that whatever caused Rosa's behavior, it was definitely not the temper… but the calculation. But why? I wanted to go and search for her, but Don Ignatio continued to console me:

"She has always been like that, Diego. Stubborn and strong-willed. That's how the Pulido's are, but it hardly befits women. And I tried to tame her, whereas you, Diego… forgive me, my boy, but you are just too meek!" he finished in impatient tone.

"I just respect her will," I said absent-mindedly, dreaming that he left me, so that I could finally search for Rosa and learn what exactly happened.

"You are making a mistake, Diego. I know you are a calm and patient man, but you have to make her respect you, otherwise she will bring the shame on her and it will be your fault. She became just spoilt and ill-tempered and…"

Not that I do not appreciate the words of wisdom of my esteemed father-in-law, but right now I just had no time for it. Besides, he was snipping my poor Rosa who evidently again got into trouble because of me… I was so anxious and impatient, that for a moment I lost control and interrupted him rather irritated:

"Don Ignatio, I fully respect the fact that Rosa is your daughter, but now she is my wife, so I must ask you not to speak about her in such manner."

Don Ignatio for a moment looked at me astonished with open mouth, but suddenly his face beamed with joyful approval:

"Exactly! That is the right spirit, my boy! No, go to talk to her!" he exclaimed and patted my shoulder.

I smiled to him unsurely and quickly left.

I found Rosa in the farthest end of the garden, on a bench so hidden behind the bushes that I hardly saw her. I have never seen her looking so pitifully – and I knew she wasn't pretending. In this moment I decided I have had enough playing blind man's buff with Peraza… even if it would mean giving the citizens of Los Angeles the spectacle they longed for… with all the consequences. Yet, before speaking to him, I had to learn what he did, so I sat beside her and asked as calmly as I could:

"Will you tell me now what happened?"

"Did anyone see you come here?" she asked instead.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Rosita, I know how to avoid being seen, if I want," I bridled a little offended.

"Not always," she cut me off but finally explained: "Peraza saw you – saw us – when we met behind Moneta's house three days ago."

I cannot quote my reaction and I immediately regretted saying such words in the presence of Rosa, but she only nodded and said:

"Exactly."

So, now Peraza had me just in his hands. But…

"Why did he speak about it with you, not with me?"

Rosa looked at me a bit surprised:

"Oh, you misunderstood me. He has no idea it was you. You know how our conversation looked like. Peraza just came to the conclusion that I am... well, on very friendly terms with the Fox."

"Really?" I cheered up a little heartened. "Well, that gives us some possibilities."

Funny thing, the _magistrado _thinks I am being cheated, whereas he has cheated himself…

"It seems he couldn'd imagine you as _el Zorro. _I guess he despises you too much to even assume that you could do something so… admirable," added Rosa, as if she was reading in my thoughts.

Who could say, that the _magistrado's _hate will serve me…

"And that is how he sees the world: treacherous, deceitful, twisted… It is easier for him to believe in such picture… because he is that kind of man himself," I finished.

"Anyway, that is why I behaved that way…" Rosa returned to her story, "He tried to blackmail me with the threat of telling you, so after our conversation I couldn't simply run to you and confide it. Peraza might then have start suspecting something."

"Do not worry, you know I would forgive you anything," I joked still a bit amused with the _magistrado's _mistake, but Rosa only got irritated:

"Be serious, Diego! He also mentioned informing the Capitán... Peraza may be blinded by his hate, but if Barcelo hears about it… it will be exactly the confirmation of his doubts he needs."

Well, unfortunately she was right.

"I am sorry. Please, tell me what did he want from you?" I continued more seriously.

"To ask the Fox to visit him. Do you know why?" asked Rosa.

"I think I know." I admitted taking a deep breath. "I will tell you later. What did you reply?"

"At first I refused but he threatened to spread a word about that encounter. I thought about Barcelo, so... Finally I said I will try, but I do not know when I will have an occasion to meet the Fox."

"Good, it gained us some time…"

"A week. He gave me one week," specified Rosa lowering her head.

So, it seemed that time stopped working in our advantage… I tried to think about possible solutions, when Rosa slightly touched my arm and proposed quietly:

"Diego… Maybe we should feign a disagreement… I would move to my father's house… That could serve you as an excuse for Barcelo."

"No."

"Listen, Diego, if that could be the way to save your life, I do not care for my reputation. And even if we should part for a few weeks…"

"No. I will find some other way," I interrupted her so decisively that Don Igantio would be proud of me.

Rosa moved back a little, pretending to be hurt by my harsh tone, but she couldn't hide content smile. I guess she was reluctant to part with me too.

Suddenly she winked with pain and when I turned to her with anxiety, explained through clenched teeth:

"Don't worry, it is your baby… Oh, it must be a boy, he took too much of your adventurous spirit… So restless…"

"Adventurous? Restless? Me? My sweet lady, you are married to the most boring man in the pueblo!" I laughed innocently, forgetting for a moment all the troubles we were in.

"You must remind me about it from time to time, the events made me forget," sighed Rosa resting her head on my arm.

"Don't worry with Peraza. I will find some way," I assured her once more, moving her closer.

We sat in silence for a moment and then decided to leave the party – of course in proper order. So, at first Rosa found my father, complained at her mood, complained at my absence – and asked him to take her home.

As soon as my father started to search for me I appeared by his side. He looked at me questioningly – he knew already that something happened.

"Later, Father. At the hacienda," I said only. It wouldn't be cautious to explain him what happened in the middle of the patio full of guests.

Though, perhaps, it was a bit too late for precautions.

* * *

As soon as we were at the hacienda and sat with Bernardo in my room, my father stopped hiding the anxiety:

"Do I guess properly by your behavior that we are in trouble?" he asked straightly.

"We are," I nodded.

"How serious?"

"Quite," I admitted and, not wanting to strain his patience started to explain: "You see, after I eavesdropped by Peraza's window, I went to see Rosa for a moment. Remember, she was invited by Moneta… We met for a moment behind the house. I didn't realize that Peraza followed me… obviously from the moment he heard me behind his window… anyway, he saw us."

My father just looked at me, not understanding, so I had to precise:

"I went to Rosa straightly from the plaza… I was still in the mask."

I moved slightly back watching how he begins to understand, gets red, gets furious and finally, when he regained his breath, yells:

"How… incredibly… stupid!"

"You don't have to tell it me, Father," I admitted sadly.

"Someone obviously does!..."

And he did. Believe me, he did. He voiced quite thoroughly – and loudly - his opinion about my sense of reason, sense of caution, sense of responsibility…

"Father, I've been talking hundreds times with Bernardo while wearing the disguise and nothing ever happened!" I tried to defend myself.

"She is not Bernardo, if you haven't noticed!"

"I have noticed," I muttered, yet quietly, in order not to irritate him even more.

It absolutely didn't improve his mood when I related them the last conversation between me in Zorro's outfit and Peraza - his demands and promises. My father is really oversensitive each time when he hears I didn't tell him about something…

I was afraid that his tirade will last forever, but suddenly Rosa, who was sitting near Bernardo just as quiet as he for at least half an hour, stood up and said quite firmly:

"Father, stop it, Diego had good intentions."

My father, thrown out of the balance, silenced in the middle of the sentence, and Rosa added calmly sitting back in her chair:

"Let's better find some way out of this."

My father nodded.

"The question is whether we will consider… accepting the _magistrado's _proposal? Under normal circumstances I would rather die than negotiate with the man who uses such means, but…"

"No, Father," I shook my head. "Now, when I know for sure that there is some lie in his plan… How could I help him? I would never misuse the trust the people put in Zorro, even to save my life."

My father smiled to me warmly. His anger was quick to come, but also quick to fade away. I continue with the same smile:

"So, I am not going to save my life."

"What do you mean by that, Diego?" he asked knitting his brows and I smiled a bit wider.

"Peraza wouldn't be such a nuisance had it not been for Barcelo… And now unfortunately we cannot afford the comfort of sitting idly and waiting for the end of the _capitán's_ assignment… So, I tried to find a plan letting us get rid of both our problems…"

"I am not sure if I want to hear what you are going to say, Diego," muttered Rosa.

"Well, as there is one, the same reason for our troubles with both the _capitán_ and the _magistrado_… let's just get rid of it… Let's kill the Fox," I finished with a smile.

Rosa only sighed, but Bernardo and Father turned to me surprised faces, so I quickly explained:

"Oh, only temporarily, of course… When Barcelo leaves, when we somehow discredit Peraza… _el Zorro _will reappear."

"I cannot think about anything better," admitted reluctantly my father though I saw he was a little discontent. I knew that deep in his soul he hated the thought of Zorro being defeated in any way… even if it would be only feigned defeat.

However, I had to be more down-to-earth.

"Of course I'll let my good _capitán_ to witness… even to contribute to the end of the Fox… he deserves it, for all his determination. Now we only have to find the suitable way. It must be something that will leave my body untouched for mysterious resurrection…"

Bernardo quite suggestively pictured the man falling down the slope and dying under the rocks.

"A ravine!" I pleased, "Great idea, I am good at falling!"

"Terrible," snickered Rosa and I felt ashamed that I forgot about her presence:

"I am sorry, Rosita. Bernardo, next time think a little, before you scare her," I reprimanded him, but Rosita interrupted me angrily.

"I am not scared. The idea is terrible. Terribly stupid, I mean. Barcelo would never stop searching for the body. No, it must be something more… permanent. Maybe a collapsing mine… or a fire…"

"Great, but I have no idea how I could get out of such mine…" I replied a little biting.

"The fire… It is not wise to play with the fire, but it would be quite credible…" said my father in pensiveness. "The season is dry… The flames burst out of nothing… Remember – last week two drunken vagabonds died in the fire of some old shed in the rancho la Resca… If their companions didn't know where they were going to spend the night, no one would ever learn their names… Providing the fire is big enough – there might be nothing left but, let's say, the remains of a rapier…"

I hesitated for a moment. Something in the idea of trying to use the flames to serve my purposes scared me. Yes, I am afraid of the fire. Everyone in California is.

And I would need Barcelo to be there – to see me disappearing in the flames. Probably I would have to fight with him before. That would require detailed plan, precise calculation, risky tricks...

I am the man of plans and tricks, but flames are unpredictable. They serve to no one.

But I had no better option.

"So, Father," I said finally, "have you got any old shed in some distant end of the rancho that you would like to get rid of?"


	9. A friend in need 1

**Before you start the lecture of the next chapter - pleace notice that both the quotation from one of the Altamirano's books and the title of another come from the real works of the real scientist - James Hutton, famous geologist, who lived in XVIII century.**

**I hope he wouldn't mind me using his words in my story... though they play rather ungrateful role here...**

**__**

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* * *

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**A friend in need (1)**

_The form and constitution of the mass are not more evidently calculated for the purpose of this earth as a habitable world, than are the various substances of which that complicated body is composed. Soft and hard parts variously combine to form a medium consistence, adapted to the use of plants and animals; wet and dry are properly mixed for nutrition, or the support of those growing bodies; and hot and cold produce a temperature or climate no less required than a soil…_

My fingers keeping the book went weaker and weaker, as my lids became heavier and heavier and all my thoughts float away on the warm midday air while I sat on the patio trying to read the next Altamirano's work… The heavy volume slipped off my finger and fell on my knees, waking me. I raised it rather reluctantly and searched for the place where I finished the lecture, when I heard the clatter of horses hoof and someone knocked at the gate.

It was Sergeant Garcia.

"Good evening, Sergeant! So nice of you to pay me a visit! Please, come in!" I welcomed him even more joyfully than usual, enjoying the excuse to leave the lecture.

"Gracias, Don Diego, but I cannot," sighed sadly the sergeant, throwing a longing glance at glass and carafe staying at the small table. Then he noticed it is only water with lemons and his expression gets even more dejected. "I only came to tell you that I will not be able to meet you tomorrow morning… in case you wanted to meet me."

We had no encounter settled for tomorrow, but I showed no surprise only ask casually:

"Oh? And why is that, my friend?"

"The _capitán_ is going to catch the Fox," explained the sergeant a bit weary and… rolled his eyes as if wanting to say: These two have fun and tired soldier cannot get his night rest.

"Again?" I surprised politely.

"This time it is a bit different. This time _el Zorro _has challenged him."

"Really? Challenged? As if… for a duel?" scared disbelief in my voice this time seemed to make no effect on the sergeant.

"Exactly, Don Diego," he only nodded. "In some old shed, in fact it is at the border of your rancho."

"Well, these are the most fascinating news, thank you for sharing them with me, my friend. I will surely stay away from this shed tomorrow," I finished the conversation, but Sergeant Garcia a bit nervously scrolled the rim of his hat and continued.

"But the _capitán_ isn't sure that he will be able to beat the Fox. They crossed the blades already, and the _capitán_… had no luck."

"So he is not going to take the challenge?" I asked with a sting of anxiety.

"He is, Don Diego, of course that he is. However, we are to follow him and, providing that the _capitán_ won't defeat Zorro, we are to arrest him anyway just after the fight."

"Well, I suppose that the outlaw shouldn't count for any other treatment," I shrugged my shoulders. I suspected that Barcelo won't be smug enough to face me alone.

"Perhaps you are right, Don Diego," replied the sergeant seeming a bit… irritated? "Anyway, we are to follow the _capitán_, from a distance of course, so that the Fox won't notice us too early… but close enough to catch him. Even if the lancers do not ride as soon as the _capitán_ foresees… the Fox will not have more than one hour for the fight," he finished heavily, looking straight into my eyes.

Is his behavior unsettling? I would rather say it is quite… touching.

Of course I will have to convince my friend somehow just how wrong he is… For his own sake. But I will solve one problem at the time. Now it is Barcelo's turn.

And in the meantime, I can allow myself to simply enjoy his friendship.

"You know, Sergeant, if the time allows, I will ride tomorrow evening to the pueblo and you will tell me all about this adventure over some good wine at the tavern," I proposed with a smile and for the first time the sergeant's face lit up a little.

"I hope you will, Don Diego," he nodded. "I hope you will."

* * *

The next day, Bernardo and I set off long before the sunrise. Both our horses were carrying heavy leather sacks and the ride took a bit longer than usual, so as soon as we reached the shed, I sent Bernardo back, together with Tornado.

"Tie him behind those far rocks, at the feet of the hill… Choose such place that he wouldn't see the building. The last thing I need is Tornado rushing to my rescue and jumping into the fire," I ordered.

Bernardo nodded but stood motionless for a moment. I knew he wanted me to ask him to return and stay near me, just in case – but I couldn't. The shed was nicely situated on a gentle hill, there were some rocks and bushes around it, but even for me it will be difficult to sneak out unnoticed. I couldn't risk Bernardo being discovered by Barcelo or his lancers.

"Go to the hacienda," I urged him. "And have a lot of water in my room prepared. I may need to change into Diego quite quickly."

So he left, very reluctantly, looking back a few times. However, I had no time to calm him, I had a lot of preparations to do.

The shed we had chosen was actually once a small cottage, in which the vaqueros used to pass the night, if their work kept them on the rancho. One or two years ago it was heavily destroyed by the storm, but as the walls and roof remained untouched, we used it as a temporary store. There were some old tables inside, a few piles of boards, some old sacks, parts of harness, straw and hay for horses… usually rubbish that could be of need in the rancho. Now I was going to use them all. I quickly checked the building to make sure that no man or animal was there and started to unpack the sacks we brought.

With the use of water, oil, straw and gunpowder I did my best to control at least for a few minutes the direction of the spreading fire I was going to light. What I needed is the curtain of flames between me and Barcelo – so the straw, dry wood and gunpowder went under the front wall of the room. The water I used near the back window, spilling it over the walls and floor. Let's hope, that the fire will consume this part of the building a bit slower... Few seconds is all I need... I also wetted my cape and left it on a broken chair.

Finally, I placed the lightened lantern on the table.

Then I could exit the building, to wait for my guest.

Barcelo arrived perfectly punctually, of course. Seeing me, he ceased moving for a moment, but I just sat casually on the doorstep, with my rapier on my knees.

"Tie your horse to that tree behind you, _Capitán_, so that he wouldn't disturb us," I said calmly. I didn't want the animal to get burnt by the flames.

Barcelo obeyed automatically, not taking his eyes from me.

"It is nice of you to meet me, _el Zorro,_" he said slowly. "Nice, but rather reckless."

"I believe we should finally settle our accounts, _Capitán_, once and for ever," I replied quickly, standing up. Let's better not give him time to consider my motives.

"Before we start I want to thank you for saving the life of Private Sanchez," he said unsheathing his weapon.

"It was my pleasure and duty," I bowed.

"No. It was my duty," he corrected me angrily.

I looked at him a little surprised by his irritation.

"Isn't it a duty of each decent man to help these who need it?"

"Oh, but you are much more than a helpful passerby, _Senor_. You usurp yourself the right to administer the justice according to you wishes," replied Barcelo fervently.

"True, true, _Capitán_. I have no rank and no office. And yet these who have seem to need me," I grinned a bit willfully and added, "Sometimes the life is just… complicated."

"You are an outlaw. It is simple," Barcelo cut the conversation, and saluted me with his blade, so there was nothing else for me to do but repeat his gesture.

And the fight began.

The capitán was very concentrated, very cautious, very patient in his attacks. I saw he gave the best of him – I guess he really wanted to defeat me in a fair fight… I, on my side, pretended to behave a little reckless, like a puckish boy who wants to play and doesn't notice the stake… He took it as my weakness and used each possibility to find an opening in my defense… Well, he didn't manage, but I slowly, step by step, moved back, untill finally we entered the house.

Now there was no time to linger much longer – I remembered about the lancers, who probably set off from Los Angeles some time ago… When I stumbled on some old board and grabbed the table for support, the old furniture wavered and the lantern slipped off it, falling straightly into the stack of straw… and the small wisps of smoke quickly rise into the air.

Barcelo at first didn't pay attention to this incident, but as the wisps of smoke turned into the flames of fire, quickly rising higher and higher, he kept casting anxious glances in their direction and finally shouted:

"Stop it! We must quench this fire! We can continue later outside!"

I replied to him with the cocky laughter:

"Are you scared, _Capitán_? I never let anything interrupt my duels!" and attacked him with a rapid stroke, so that he could do nothing but parry and continue the fight.

The flames quickly run through the straw sprinkled with gunpowder along the whole front wall of the room and soon started to crackle and climb the walls – at first slowly, then more and more greedily. Soon the high curtain of fire cut us off from the entrance. The air was getting hot and I felt the first difficulties with breathing, yet I attacked Barcelo even more relentlessly.

"Are you mad? We must get outside!" he yelled.

I only wiped the sweat from my eyes but in that moment the first beam fell from the ceiling, just between us, throwing behind itself the wisp of burning sparkles. Barcelo wavered and fell on one knee. I jumped over the blazing log, caught his shoulder and pushed him outside through the side doors, quickly moving back into flames. The next beam fell just in front of me – as ordered – so if Barcelo was looking in my direction, he should think I got crushed by it.

I would smile with satisfaction, but couldn't waste any second… I just threw my rapier into the flames – for the soldiers to find it later – grabbed the wet cape, wrapped it over my head and jumped through the window on the other side of the building.

After getting out I bit the wet material of my cape to suppress the cough – as the dead men do not cough, of course - and moved very cautiously a bit toward to see Barcelo.

He seemed to be fine. For a moment he caught heavily the air, kneeling on the ground and leaning on his blade. I managed to notice that he looked at the flames with desperation. Was he sorry for me? I slightly smiled.

And then my smile disappeared, as Barcelo struggled to his feet, threw away his blade and dived back into the fire.

Oh, damn. Instead of witnessing my spectacular death, he was going to rescue me.

And he had no chances of getting out of this house alone. Not now. It was too late.

It would be nice to say that I rushed to help without much thinking, but I managed to think quite a lot as I was running to the nearest window. I thought that he is probably dead already and I will be in a few seconds. I thought about Rosa, my father and Bernardo, waiting in vain for my return. Oh, yes, I thought also that even if we manage to get out, I would fall straightly into the hands of the lancers that should arrive any moment.

I thought it all, but it didn't make me move any slower.

When I entered the building for the second time it was already hell inside, burning, roaring and choking hell. I could hardly see anything through the flames and smoke biting my eyes, the unbearable heat made it hard even to think, not only to move. The worst was the lack of air… I protected my face with the cape, but I had to struggle for each breath.

I managed to find Barcelo under some beams and dragged him to his feet, but I could see no way out. All around us were flames, blocking our way to any doors or windows.

It passed through my mind that if we die here together, no one will be able to tell our bodies apart, just as of these two vagabonds that died at rancho La Resca. What an irony - probably they would have to bury us in one grave, I thought, struggling with the smoke that burnt my lungs and eyes.

I realized that lack of air was making me delirious. Barcelo was in even worse condition, if I didn't support him, he would fall and lose his conscious.

Losing conscious now meant certain death.

I couldn't give up. Not yet.

Groping our way through the flames suddenly I felt the wooden wall. I could see no door or window, but I threw myself on it, hoping that the rotten boards will give in under my weight.

And they did. I could hardly see anything, but heard the sound of cracking wood and felt the splitters tearing my sleeve, glove and finally skin. The pain was nothing to the fact that I managed to break through. After a few kicks the hole was big enough for a man to get out and I rolled out of the building, dragging Barcelo behind me.

We fell on the ground and, greedily swallowing the air, crawled a few yards from the burning building. Then for a moment we just lay on the grass, coughing and trying to breathe.

I looked at the shed – the fire was raging, but there was no danger of the flames spreading elsewhere. I cut earlier the nearest bushes myself, so the fire will consume the shed to the foundations, but then it will die.

After a few seconds of rest and relishing with the fresh air filling my lungs, the relief slowly mixed with the realization that even if I am alive for a time being, my situation looks rather poorly. My trick failed and I lay now helpless, without weapon and definitely in no condition to keep one.

Barcelo looked equally miserable, curling on the ground shivered with cough, but he could allow himself for it - these were his lancers that were supposed to appear here soon.

I slowly tried to move my damaged hand. It was bruised and scarred by the splitters, the sleeve and the glove in tatters. Right hand, damn it. Couldn't I think a little and use the left? Well, the conditions were not conducive to thinking.

Barcelo watched me leaning on his elbow.

"So you are human, after all. You can be hurt," he noticed with a hoarse voice and grimace that was intended to be a smile.

"Very much so," I replied trying to chuckle, but my laugh turned into the new wave of cough.

I noticed my hat lying within the reach of my hand and put it on, to better conceal my features. However, if I was as battered as Barcelo, it was rather an unnecessary precaution; he could see in my present outlook nothing reminding him about Diego de la Vega. The _capitán's _uniform was a total disaster, torn, burned and covered with soot, just as his face and hands. My black outfit wasn't so spectacularly damaged, but when I touched my chin, I felt sweat mixed with dark dust.

"You look just as me. It is hard to tell where your mask ends," confirmed Barcelo with the same grimace.

Then he took one more deep breath, crawled toward my cape lying between us and touched the still wet material. He shook his head:

"You behaved earlier like an idiot you are not. It was all the trick, to feign your death before my eyes?"

"It was. You are quite a nuisance, _Capitán_," I admitted with a smile.

"Gracias," he smiled too, but then his smile faded and he looked at me with consideration:

"All of your problems would be gone it you let me die in these flames. Why did you return for me?"

I didn't even bother with replying to this question. I drag to me my cape and threw it on my shoulders, hiding the wound – Barcelo already saw too much. When I finished, I asked him calmly:

"You threw away your weapon, before jumping to the house. You didn't want to fight me, only to help me out. Why?"

"I want to hang you, not to roast you alive," explained Barcelo rather politely.

"Gracias," this time I managed to chuckle.

Yet, my laughter quickly faded and I looked anxiously around. This conversation was very pleasant, but as I was in no condition to fight I had to get away before the lancers arrive. Otherwise, even Sergeant Garcia will have to arrest me.

Tornado was so far and I still had problems with gathering myself to my feet! I thought about the _capitán's _horse, but I couldn't see him. The poor animal, scared by fire, must have torn the reins and run away.

In the meantime, Barcelo recreated the events of our encounter and came to a bitter conclusion.

"So, when we were fencing, you were just playing with me? For a moment I thought we are an equal match after all. Am I that clumsy of a swordsman that everyone here seems to mock me? First Peraza, then you!" he stopped for a moment to cough and breathe, but then continued, half irritated and half amused by his own musing: "Oh, pity that Peraza is in Los Angeles too short to be you… It would be much easier, I do not like him anyway. Whereas… Whereas I really do not want you to be Diego de la Vega. Tell me, you are not him," he finished quietly and looked at me almost pleadingly.

I think it was not a trap, he really wanted to hear it… but his logic wouldn't let him to believe it anyway. So I just shook my head and replied obliviously, just as the Fox should:

"You will get from me no clue to my identity, Capitán, neither by confirmation, nor by denial, no matter whose name you call."

"Besides," I added slowly, seeing the colorful jackets of lancers appearing on the horizon, "perhaps you will soon have the possibility to see it for yourself, _Capitán_."

Sergeant Garcia was riding indeed… unhurriedly… yet when they noticed the fire, the small detachment immediately spurred the horses. They should be here in no more than a quarter.

I looked a bit desperately around. The fire behind us was still raging, the flames devouring the wood with loud cracks. However, I whistled for Tornado. He probably won't hear me… but perhaps he will feel I need him. I won't so simply give up. Not yet.

The first thing would be to stand up.

In the meantime, Barcelo, as if unaware of my struggle, just shook his head and spoke quietly.

"I have seen my death in these flames, and yet I am still alive. My daughters, my wife will see me again. Such things… are important. If you had a family you would understand what it means. Or, maybe, you have it?" he turned to me with a bit absent expression.

"No clue, _Capitán_," I reminded him. I managed to kneel and had to rest a while. No chances I would get to Tornado before the lancers reach the hill… I whistled once again. Where are you, my black friend?

The capitán didn't move, only passed an oblivious glance by the horizon and nearing soldiers.

"I could stop them and let you escape," he stated so sadly, that I knew he was not going to do it. "Part of me wants to do so, very much. You have just saved my life. But I should do my duty."

"You owe me no gratitude, _Capitán_. Do not forget, I set this fire," I reminded him. There was no need for him to be haunted by the remorse.

But Barcelo only laughed bitterly, like the man very displeased with himself.

"The problem is, Fox, that I am beginning to wonder if it is not on the contrary. If it is not so that I want to catch you – catch, unmask, convict and finally put an end to your arrogance – whereas perhaps I should let you go."

"You see now for yourself, _Capitán _– the life is complicated," I had to grin, though I felt a little hurt with his remarks about my alleged arrogance.

"Rules are simple," repeated Barcelo stubbornly, more to himself than to me. It seemed that he tried to move aside all gray shadows of doubts haunting him and return to his well-known, black and white universe…

No matter, for me it was the highest time to finish this conversation too, because… I didn't complete the thought as in this moment I heard the horse galloping toward us – I looked surprised in the direction of the noise, as it was still too soon for lancers and they never ride so quickly…

In front of us burst the familiar black shape and I almost laughed aloud. Tornado! My faithful friend now was all irritation and panic. He reared swirling on his back legs and neighed for me with pretense as if saying "How could you do it to me!" From his neck hanged down a piece of rope, which the end was obviously bitten. So, he did feel I needed him…

"It is your damn horse," noticed Barcelo cheerfully.

After seeing me, Tornado, impatient with my long absence, scared by the heat and fire, teased by the smell of my blood, got almost hysterical. He couldn't decide whether to rear and nag – or to fawn to me like a dog… I didn't even manage to welcome him, when he sniffed me with his big nose so abruptly, that he knocked me again on the ground. Then, to repair the damage, he immediately caught my shoulder with his teeth to pull me on my feet. As he was simultaneously still trying to neigh, the result for my outfit was rather devastating….

"_Calmate_!" I shouted at him

He neighed for the last time with obvious reproach, but finally calmed a bit and kneeled before me to make it easier to mount him.

Barcelo observed the scene with an amused… and relieved expression.

"It seems you are not going to catch me today, _Capitán_," I said crumbling on Tornado's back.

"Apparently no," said Barcelo making no attempt to stop me and smiling peacefully. Then however his smile disappeared and he sighed: "Not today. But tomorrow… beware, Fox."

"I will, _mi Capitán_," I promised and spurred Tornado, choosing carefully such way down the slope, that the lancers didn't notice me. I didn't think that Barcelo would send the pursuit, yet I preferred not to risk it. Poor _capitán _seemed to be quite shaken… he could behave unpredictably…

* * *

"Hold still for a moment, Diego. And close your eyes," ordered Rosa.

I closed obediently the eyes and leaned back my head, a little embarrassed, when Rosa and Bernardo leant over me, cautiously checking whether there was any wipe of soot, scratch or burnt hair left.

"Nothing," finally decided Rosa and Bernardo nodded with approval.

"Good," I sighed with relief. I spend the last hour removing each sign of my morning adventure. Now everything seemed to be in perfect order… with the exception of my hand of course. The beautiful bruise on the forearm was nothing in comparison with the scratch that reached to the knuckles… Even when I rolled down the sleeve of the shirt, they were still visible at the top of my palm.

"Well, I cannot do anything with this," sighed Rosa following my glance. "It will heal in few days… but as for now you just have to wear the gauntlets."

"No playing the piano for Barcelo in the coming days I guess," I remarked searching for the gloves matching my suit. "Well, if you say I am ready, I will go to the patio and wait for the _capitán _there."

"Why are you so sure he will come to the hacienda? To check you? You said he was rather reluctant to catch you… on this particular day?"

"He has to come, to inform us about the fire on our lands… He will wait with the lancers until the flames wane, to make sure that they do not spread… and then, on their way back the Los Angeles, they will drop by to the hacienda," I explained patiently. "And when they drop by, I want him to see me – well, just as I am now, rested and clean and very innocently occupied with… let's say the lecture of the last Altamirano's book," I finished taking the book from the table.

"And not coughing," reminded me Rosa.

"Definitely not," I smiled.

* * *

Waiting for the _capitán _I took the last book of our professor left to read. _Theory of the Earth; or an Investigation of the Laws observable in the Composition, Dissolution, and Restoration of Land upon the Globe…_ - what a promising title! I hardly suppressed a yawn. Luckily, I didn't manage to read anything more, when I heard knocking at the gate.

"Capitán! For Heaven's sake, what happened?" I exclaimed with perfect horror, seeing his battered uniform. In the meantime, the lancers must have given him water to wash his hands and face, but his uniform looked just as miserable as when we parted few hours ago. When he saw me opening the door in my perfectly clean, fair-blue suit, he couldn't hide a surprised blink.

"There was a fire on your rancho, Don Diego," his voice was still hoarse. Well, as I said, he could allow himself for indisposition. I still preferred not to talk too much. So, to save my throat, my father ran into the patio and bombarded the _capitán _with all suitable questions:

"Was someone injured? Where? How did it happen?"

In the meantime, I filled two glasses with water and handed one to the capitán and the other to the sergeant. Barcelo took quickly a sip, but the sergeant look suspiciously at the colorless content and handed it to the corporal with disappointed sigh. I waved for Bernardo to bring more glasses and wine, but the _capitán _stopped me:

"We cannot stay, Don Diego, thank you, but we are returning to the _cuartel_… Well, Don Alejandro, Zorro and I had the fight in some old building at your lands… Then the flames burst out somehow… I managed to get out. The whole building burnt to the ground… but we waited there long enough to make sure that the fire won't spread.

Replying to my father's questions, Barcelo couldn't resist looking at me rather inquisitively. I felt his eyes examining my clothes, my hair, my face… I patiently let him observe me, enjoying his confusion. You won't notice any trail, _mi capitán_, pointing that I could be that dirty, battered, black bandit you met this morning… The suspicion in his sight slowly faded and he almost smiled. Nice I could calm you down, _Capitán_…

"And Zorro? What happened to him?" my wise father remembered to ask.

"I don't know…" replied Barcelo slowly and quietly, as if against his will, "I don't know what happened to him."

"The ashes were too hot to search, but we will do it first thing tomorrow," added Sergeant Garcia.

I closed for a moment my eyes to cover the surprise. Barcelo was lying! Why didn't he mention a word about our encounter to his lancers? To hide his moment of weakness, when he did nothing to prevent my escape? Or maybe he understood finally, that even if the rules are simple, life is not? Will he agree to play my game and let everyone believe that the Fox is dead?...

However, apart from hope, I felt a shiver of anxiety. He was really behaving unpredictably. Now I just had no idea what his next step may be – and it worried me a little.

"I'll make sure that no one gets near to this place until you have finished your work," promised my father and the lancers started to leave the patio.

I kept the gate open for them. Barcelo was the last one to leave and just before exiting he turned to me with the smile:

"Have a good day, Don Diego," he said as friendly as in the days when no shadow of suspicion disturbed our relations.

Then he froze.

I followed his glance and noticed that he is looking at my gloved hand keeping the gate frame.

"Something else, _Capitán_?" I asked quietly.

"Nothing, Don Diego. Nothing today," he replied very tired and left.


	10. A friend in need 2

**A friend in need (2)**

On the next day I prepared myself in the exquisite mood to the trip to San Diego. Barcelo's lie solved most of my current problems. The lancers must have already started to whisper, that _el Zorro_ might have got caught in the fire… that he might be wounded… or even dead… They will find my rapier in the ashes and it will strengthen the rumors. No one will know anything for sure, but the gossips should be enough. Rosa will tell the _magistrado_ she couldn't contact the Fox, she doesn't know what happened to him, just as anyone else. Not being sure if I am dead or alive he will have no reason to execute his threat.

As for Barcelo… unfortunately I couldn't predict his next move. If he would chose to pretend that _el Zorro _is dead, I will not disturb him. He could now announce the success of his mission… yet somehow I found it hard to believe, that our dashing _capitán _will take an easy way. However, his hesitation gained me a few days… a few days I was going to spend in the cattle market in San Diego – thank God there is always some cattle market in the neighborhood here – waiting for the scars on my hand to heal.

In the morning, my father and Bernardo went to the pueblo to check, if the rumors about Zorro's accident were already spreading among the people… Rosa was visiting some of her friends with the same purpose. As soon as they confirm hearing the gossips, I will leave.

I treated my hand with the ointments Rosa left me, trying to remember the proper order. Sometimes it is easier to be the Fox if you are married… Bernardo was very good in pulling out the bullets or sewing the wounds, but unfortunately neither of us knew anything about avoiding the scars. Now I had at my disposal at least six little jars about which content I preferred not to ask, but Rosa assured me that they will make all the scars disappear without the trail.

When I was done I sat comfortably on the couch, with the glass of Madeira at hand, and once again reached for Altamirano's book. Yesterday I had no occasion to continue the lecture, so I opened it once more at the first page.

_Theory of the Earth; or an Investigation of the Laws observable…_

Once again I wasn't meant to read anything more, as in that moment Bernardo burst into the library and started to sign something so hectically, that I couldn't understand a word. Luckily, my father entered just behind him, so I waved for Bernardo to stop and turned to him:

"You have returned? Some news? Father, can you tell me shortly what happened – Bernardo uses too many adjectives," I asked merrily.

Yet my smile disappeared when I noticed that my father didn't share my cheerful mood, only looked at me in utmost commotion.

"Shortly?" he repeated after me and took deep breath. "All right. Sergeant Garcia searched the ashes, found there a body of the Fox, buried it and then reported to Barcelo. The _Capitán _arrested him for treason and ordered the… exhumation."

"Buried and then reported?" I asked blankly.

"Exactly."

"Madre de Dios…" I groaned hiding the face in my hands.

"Diego, have you got any idea…" started my father but I interrupted him with desperation.

"Of course I do! Barcelo didn't confide to anyone that Zorro got out of the fire… So, that idiot, I mean Garcia, announced he had found the body of the Fox, to make Barcelo finish his hunt and leave…"

Bernardo slowly sat on the couch looking very weak, but my father remained staying in the middle of the room, staring at me in disbelief;

"But how could he…"

"I don't know how!" I said impatiently, "maybe he put some stones into the coffin, or something… He indeed spent too much time with Monastario!" I laughed bitterly.

"Garcia? To put the false report, cheat his superior? It is not possible, he is too stupid for it!" my father stated unsurely, but I only shook my head, rubbing my temple.

"Oh, Father, you must have noticed that the proofs of the sergeant's fondness for the Fox were quite ostensive recently! He hid Monastario's reports, did his best to secure Zorro's escape from each trap and finally this! I am not saying it was wise, on the contrary, it was stupid, incredibly stupid!"

I couldn't sit any longer so I started to stride up and down through the room. My father still looked at me incredulously, not convinced by my words. How blind can he sometimes be!

"Father, can't you see he did it for me? He suspects me from God knows how long, and he made sure all he could that Barcelo didn't get me!" I hit with irritation the piano and the strings replied with the hollow moan. The sound and the pain brought me back to my senses. I looked at my father apologetically.

"I am sorry, Father, I shouldn't have shouted. I am not angry at you, only at myself. I have seen his suspicions, I should have reacted earlier… but I only eagerly used his help…"

"But Diego, if you are right… what he did… it is a treason," stuttered my father in scary voice.

"It is," I nodded sadly.

"He will hang for it…" suddenly the realization hit him and he turned to me with the fear in his eyes: "Diego, we cannot allow…"

Maybe my father was never especially befriended with Garcia, but now he suddenly looked ten years older, as he imagined the execution of the jovial sergeant who tried to help his son…

"No, we cannot and we will not," I assured him, yet the fake optimism in my voice didn't manage to delude even him.

"Diego, have you got any idea…" he started for the second time, hesitated and finished rather helpless: "…what to do?"

"No. No I don't," I admitted in the same way.

Well, one thing was certain. We will not save the sergeant by sitting in the hacienda. I rise and took my hat and gloves.

"As for now, Father, I am going to the graveyard, too see how Barcelo reacts. Please, wait here with Bernardo for Rosa, tell her what happened and meet me later at the pueblo, then we will discuss what to do next."

* * *

When I rode to the cemetery my all thought, my all emotions were pure despair. What that idiot, my stupid friend had done? I really didn't know how help him this time.

The problem was that the sergeant was guilty. Oh, I would have no problem with breaking all of Zorro's codes and getting him out of prison, but even if Zorro frees him, what shall he do next? Lead the life of the outlaw in the mountains? It would mean certain death for him. He is a soldier, in his each inch, he wouldn't be able to survive outside the military, not mentioning the community, pueblo, his friends…

The _magistrado_ was a clever man… Maybe if I go to him, beg him, humiliate myself as he wishes, he would find some way to defend the sergeant… but the most Peraza could achieve would be saving Garcia's life, definitely not freedom… The sergeant was guilty, guilty of treason, and nothing the Fox with all his skills and cunning or Diego with his persuasion could do, will change it…

I saw that the lancers were already at the cemetery, shoveling the soil from the fresh grave near the wall. I quickly passed the gate, but as soon as I made the first step in their direction, Barcelo stopped me grabbing my arm:

"What are you doing here, Don Diego? It is not a place for a civilian now," he asked sharply. I could see he was shaken too, shaken and very angry.

"I heard you arrested Sergeant Garcia. He is my friend, I want to see what happens here," I replied not bothering with courtesies.

"The sergeant was my friend too, but I will not tolerate treason," he cut me off, but did not stop me from entering anymore.

I stood behind the soldiers, watching their work. The hole quickly deepened. Soon their shovels will clatter at the lid of the coffin… and then we will all see the proof of my friend's guilt…

No wonder Barcelo is furious. He might have for a moment considered silently accepting Zorro's mission, but he would never accept such an open lie of his subordinate. Man of duty, man of honor like he cannot bear betrayal, especially not among his fellow soldiers… He won't even listen to my persuasion.

Yet, the only way to save Garcia is making Barcelo withdraw his accusation and return the sergeant into service… And I found the way how to achieve it.

_El Zorro _will offer to the _capitán _to give up himself in exchange for the exoneration of the sergeant. Barcelo should agree for such gambit. Isn't it what he wants the most? He will have to resign from punishing the weak-willed sergeant, but instead he will convict the most elusive bandit in the whole of California… He will agree.

First shovels knocked at the wooden board. The lancers put them aside and started to lever up the lid.

There are still almost four months till the child is born. Maybe it is a boy… or maybe a little _niña_, lovely as her mother. Even if I don't say it too often, I would very much like to… No matter. Four months - no trial will last that long. Of course, providing that there will be a trial.

Yet, my friend put his life at risk for me. Such debts must be repaid.

The wood cracked and the lid gave in. All lancers crowded around it, curiously looking inside. Only Barcelo and I stood behind, as both knew well, what we may see there. Or rather – what we may not.

Definitely not the body of the Fox.

The lancers of course gasped with surprise and I for a moment closed my eyes, wishing I would be anywhere but here. Finally, Barcelo reluctantly moved forward and peeked into the coffin and... almost jumped back with face so changed with bewilderment than I instinctively leant and looked into the grave.

And I almost fell on my knees.

There were no stones in the coffin. There was a body.

Burnt, distorted but definitely human remains. There could be no doubts that they belonged to the man, the man who died in the fire.

So there was someone else in that shed.

Someone died in the fire I set.

"Don Diego? Diego, drink it," I saw the worried face of Barcelo over me and I realized that I am leaning inertly on the graveyard's wall, hiding the face in my hands.

Unconsciously I took the flask he gave me and drank something sharp and burning.

"I am sorry, Don Diego, but I was sure that there will be only stones. Otherwise I would never allow you to see it," Barcelo looked at me apologetically.

For a moment I couldn't understand what he was talking about. Then I realized, that he thought it was a view of the remains that knocked me down.

"You were right, Capitán, it was not a view for a civilian." I forced myself to say blankly.

A bit waveringly I straightened, not being able to suppress the shiver when my eyes fell once more at the coffin.

Barcelo seemed to be equally moved:

"There was someone else in that shed," he said quietly mirroring my thoughts.

I felt so tired, tired with the game I played with him. This is where it has led me, to the body of innocent man who died because of me. I just have no strength to play it any longer.

So when he looked at me, I wanted to say simply 'yes, someone else was there'. I wanted to say 'I am sorry, I didn't know. Help me to find out who it was.'

But the fox in me whispered: not yet.

So I replied:

"Someone else? What do you mean, _Capitán_? Aren't these the remains of _el Zorro_?"

Good, commented the fox.

Right now I hated him.

"No, it is not _el Zorro_. I know it," said Barcelo in dead voice.

_Mí Capitán_, you do not have to worry yourself so much. It was my trap, my idea, it is my guilt.

I reminded myself why I came here and turned to him:

"I understand that the sergeant is free now?"

"Oh yes. Yes, he is," nodded Barcelo, "It was natural for him to think that he found the Fox..."

Well, now that is exactly what all the lancers think. I can hear their excited whispers, while they are burying back the coffin - in spite of Barcelo's gloomy glance, the soldiers cannot resist commenting on the events.

_So the Fox is dead, really dead!_

_Now we never learn who he was…_

No one will never learn who lies in that grave, neither the lancers, nor me. I will never learn the name of this man.

Oh, I checked the building. I can remember how I ran through the room, looked into the corners… yet now I remember also the piles of boards, old sacks, some rubbish, broken barrels, the small closet – so many places I didn't search exactly enough, where someone could hide…

A traveler who didn't manage to get to the pueblo before sundown, a vagabond, a drunkard - anyway, someone was staying in this shed for the night.

Maybe he was sleeping in a drunken sleep, so that he even didn't hear me and Barcelo, maybe the fight awoke him, yet was afraid to go out into the blades of two fighters…

Doesn't matter. He was there and got caught in the fire I set.

It is so obvious. Why didn't I think about it before it happened? Why didn't I move the barrels, step into the closet? I have checked the house, why couldn't I have done it more precisely?

I didn't want to go to the plaza with the lancers, right now I couldn't bear the company. I went to the church and, not daring to go inside, sat on the doorstep, trying to calm my mind. Yet the more I considered what happened, the worse I felt.

That is all wrong. I donned the mask to protect the weakest, these who cannot protect themselves. I was prepared to kill people in the fight, people who wanted to kill me… But now I caused a death of a helpless man in an attempt to protect my skin. It was so… wrong. There was no better word for it.

I reminded myself that my father and Bernardo should be waiting for me, so finally I slowly rise and walked to the plaza. I wasn't sure how much time passed, but it must have been a while, as my father welcomed me with anxious question:

"Diego, what happened at the cemetery? The sergeant has been just freed and all the people say _el Zorro _is dead?"

When he stood there and looked at me so worried and unsure, I would give anything not to reply to him. My father, always so responsible, so protective about the others, how shaken he will be… I would prefer to keep this burden for myself. Yet I couldn't. I forced myself to keep his sight.

"There was a body in the grave. There was someone else in this shed," I confessed quietly.

My father's eyes widened with horror.

"So we…"

"Not we. Me," I interrupt him angrily but then all anger left me and I felt only grief, heartbreaking grief.

"_Papá_, I have checked this shed" I whispered.

"I know, Diego, I know," he replied softly.

For a moment he said nothing, only stood by my side. Then he looked around and gently touched my arm:

"Listen Diego, we will deal with it… but right now you have to go to the tavern. Sergeant Garcia and all his friend are there. Since you are already at the pueblo, you must go too, even if only for a moment... Otherwise it would seem too strange. I saw Barcelo returning from the graveyard. He looked like… not himself. We must be very careful with him now."

"I will come," I nodded. "Just leave me alone here for a few minutes. Go first, I will come soon. You too," I added gently to Bernardo, who eyed me very worried, but left with my father.

* * *

They left and I leant myself on the wall, feeling the warm sun rays over my skin. I reminded myself the heat of fire burning my skin, the lack of air, the pain in the lungs… only this time I thought about the unknown man, who must have felt the same only much longer. Till the death. How long it took before he loses his conscious? Did he even try to escape? Why did neither Barcelo nor me notice him in this burning hell?…

"I have heard that you have been at the graveyard, Don Diego. Is it true? The Fox is really dead?"

I opened my eyes and noticed Damián Peraza in front of me.

"I saw the body," I replied only.

"Pity," he commented and there was a real pity in his voice. "So, who was he?"

"It was not possible to see. The fire…" I didn't finish, I really didn't feel like discussing it with him right now.

"So it could have been anyone," Peraza shrugged his shoulders not explaining whether he meant Zorro, or the corpse, and left without further questions, only throwing a mocking remark in my direction:

"Just do not faint here, de la Vega!"

I didn't bother to reply. He was even right. I shouldn't stay here like a weeper. It is too late for remorse.

If only I could do something, anything…

I cannot help that man, but maybe he had family. I could find them and help them somehow. I caught this thought like the life belt. I had an aim, something to do… The first thing would be to talk in private with the sergeant. Maybe that man had something with him, any item that withstood the fire and will lead me to his identity.

I had some luck as in this moment I saw Sergeant Garcia exciting the tavern and looking around the plaza. Well, at least he was safe. I wonder what he felt when he found that body in the ashes while being so sure that I am _el Zorro _– and he saw me sitting safely at the hacienda… He must have been shocked and surprised too.

Well, right now he seemed to be rather… serene. When he saw me he became even more joyous and approached me quickly.

"Don Diego, I came to take you to the tavern. Will you come for a moment? It is now rather the funeral feast for the Fox, but… all the pueblo is here and…"

It was the best moment to get some information from him, so I didn't reply, only asked him trying not to sound as impatient as I felt:

"Sergeant, when you found, that body… Zorro's body… Have you seen anything particular? Do you remember where exactly it laid? How did it lay? Were there any items near it?"

The sergeant looked at the toes of his shoes, than at the geranium pot hanging above us, finally at me…

"Don Diego, may I confide you a secret?" he whispered.

I am so tired with secrets… But if I wanted my answers, I had to let him speak, so I nodded and looked at him questioningly.

"It is not the Fox lying in this grave."

I know that much, what I would like to know, is who is laying there. I almost bridled impatiently, but suddenly I realized that… that it shouldn't be so obvious to him…

"How do you know, Sergeant? What exactly have you found in this shed?" I asked sharply.

I expected many reactions from him, but definitely not… the giggle.

"We haven't even been in this shed, Don Diego… And in the grave is – well, either Jacinto or Pico, it was impossible to tell them apart. Anyway, one of these vagabonds that died at rancho la Resca last week. We just took one coffin out and buried it in a new grave, to prove to the capitán that _el Zorro_ is really dead," he finished looking at me very proudly.

For a moment I just struggled to understand what he just said.

"It is the profanation of the corpse," I stated weakly.

"Oh, no, we did it with all due respect…" the sergeant assured me very seriously, "Padre Benitez was there too and approved… He even said that finally Jacinto – or Pico – will finally serve to something useful. Hardly appropriate words for the clergyman," the sergeant added with pensiveness, shaking his head, "but considering the circumstances…"

Padre Benitez! Could anyone possibly introduce me in these plans of saving the Fox, that apparently half of the pueblo is in? Please?

Sergeant Garcia must have read some of my feelings in my face, as he patted calmingly my arm:

"When the things quiet down, we will return the coffin to its previous place. Or maybe," he corrected himself after the moment of consideration, "we will just replace the crosses. It will be much easier."

I guess I was still speechless as he looked at me more carefully and spread his arm with a very content smile:

"Oh come on, Don Diego, you didn't possibly think I would just put some stones into the coffin, just like Monastario once did? I am not that stupid!"

He did spend too much time with Monastario. He even managed to learn something on _commandante's _mistakes…

"No, Sergeant. I thought you put there Zorro's body you found in the ashes," I replied rather coldly.

"Of course, Don Diego. Yes, yes. I mean, no, I didn't, but, of course you did… Anyway, would you go now to the tavern?" the sergeant looked at me pleadingly.

I nodded, but as I was slowly regaining my ability to think clearly, before he opened the doors, I grabbed his arm, not caring that he almost jumped, surprised with the strength of my grasp.

"Sergeant – you do understand, that no matter what happens, you cannot possibly let Barcelo know what you did? No matter," I hesitated for a moment and finished straightly, throwing away all the masks, including this of politeness, "no matter how much you drink?"

Garcia kept my glance, seeming to be slightly offended:

"Don Diego, I may drink so much, that I will not be able to find my way to the _cuartel_, but definitely not that much to get on the way leading me to the gallows. Or leading there anyone else. I never did."

Right now I preferred not to analyze his words more exactly. I consider myself a resilient man, yet this day brought me near the limits of my endurance. I just nodded and meekly followed the sergeant to the tavern.

* * *

There was indeed the whole pueblo in the tavern, _haciendados_, _vaqueros_, even some natives, crowding around the tables… For many of them lacked the seats, so they were leaning over the walls or sitting on the table-tops. I have never seen so many people there. The mood was rather gloomy and quiet talks silenced when the sergeant entered. He swallowed hardly and looked unsurely in the direction of the other lancers sitting in the corner with uncertain expressions.

"That is all right, Sergeant," said loudly some old vaquero, "at least thanks to you the Fox has a decent grave."

Another person nodded and the sergeant took a relieved breath. He sat among his lancers and I sat near my father, smiling to him calmingly. I couldn't explain to him anything now, but he noticed the change in my disposition and sighed with relief.

The quiet talks slowly filled the sala, yet the mood was still tensed. The lancers turned the mugs in their hands, not daring to drink, and the gathered people cast at them anxious glances not daring to speak louder.

Finally, Private Sanchez stood up, raising the mug.

"To the Fox," he said clearly, though his voice was breaking with tears.

"To the Fox," replied the others after him, not caring that he was the youngest one here.

This toast seemed to break the invisible barrier between the lancers and the others. The conversations became loud and unconstrained, people walked, changed places, talked… yes, they all talked about _el Zorro…_

Adventures, legends, fairy-tales. True and imagination.

They all mixed here, when people recalled _el Zorro._

As my father listened to them, he seemed to get slightly embarrassed by the descriptions of Zorro's heroics, but the proud grin started slowly to appear on his face. I kicked him under the table signing that he should be more serious, so he just buried his head in his hands. Much better, at least now it looked like an expression of grief.

Oh, yes, not all _haciendados_ here were the friends of the Fox… Yet, all of them seemed now rather despondent.

"He was a scoundrel, but a dashing one. I never wished him such death," muttered Don Juan raising the toast with the others.

Padre Benitez was there too, not drinking, only leaning over the counter with his usual gentle smile.

"Padre, will you celebrate the mass for _el Zorro?_ For the peace of his soul?" asked someone.

"Next Sunday," he replied without a blink.

It seems that there are more people in Los Angeles talented in wearing the mask.

After all today's revelations I thought that nothing is going to surprise me, yet I opened wide my eyes when I noticed that the inn-keeper was offering the free wine for everyone. End of world, really, end of world in Los Angeles!

When everyone had drinks, the inn-keeper came to me with some old guitar he fetched from the back room:

"Would you mind playing something, Don Diego? Something sad?" he asked pleadingly.

That is the rare possibility, to decide what one would like to hear on his own burial ceremony! After a moment of consideration I decided that the Fox would prefer the improvisation played live by Diego de la Vega.

So I took the instrument and started to play a quiet melody.

It was nice and sad, though I couldn't concentrate much neither on the music, nor on the conversations. I wasn't thinking about anything particular, I wasn't analyzing the situation, I wasn't planning the new step. I wasn't even feeling proud with all the praises for the Fox around me. To tell the truth, I hardly listened to them.

I was only so happy that no one died in those flames.

I will never try to do it again. I got my lesson of humility. _El Zorro _might be a legend, but I am only Diego, fallible as each human. I will remember my limits.

* * *

I do not know how much time passed – an hour? two? – while I was sitting in the corner of the crowded sala and playing quietly while the others drank and talked.

The memories seemed to have no end, people talked and talked and no one left the room. All gathered shared their meetings with _el Zorro _– personally, I couldn't recall half of them and as I enjoy good memory, I believe that wine helped the imagination.

And then this nice, warm and nostalgic mood in the sala was interrupter rather abruptly.

"All right, the mourning is over!" I heard suddenly the angry and loud voice of Barcelo.

All the conversations silenced and everyone in the sala looked at him. The tension immediately returned.

The _capitán _didn't look well. I had no idea how long exactly he watched us, but obviously he was very, very angry. I would even say… out of control. His usually perfect uniform was now a little battered and he leant over the doorframe in an unusually for him slack pose. Had he been drinking something?

I anxiously measured the distance between him and the crowd. In the mood such as this right now in the tavern, if he says one wrong word… things may easily get out of control. Sergeant Garcia must have drunk less than I thought as he quickly came to the same conclusion and moved toward his superior.

Yet what Barcelo said surprised everyone.

"The mourning's over!" he shouted once again, looking challengingly around. People he looked at lowered their heads, avoiding his glance, yet the others stared at him with obvious dislike. "I do not know who lies in this grave, but it is not the Fox! I talked with him after we got out from that fire and saw him leave. I let him leave… because…" he stammered and rubbed his temple.

The gathered people exchanged surprised glances and I… I felt the wave of anxiety. Yes, he was out of control. The _capitán _has reached his limits too, right here, standing alone against the whole pueblo he wanted to protect, he was driven to the edge. Now he was lost, desperate and – very dangerous.

"Your Fox is well and healthy," he continued much quieter, "And I am tired," he finished looking straight at me.

I didn't lower my head only kept his sight. I knew what he was going to say.

"I am tired with this game," he almost whispered, yet in the dead silence in the sala everyone heard him, "I want the truth, no matter the consequences. Don Diego," he suddenly raised his head and spoke loud and clear, "show me your hand. The right one."

I was aware that all the people in the sala were staring at me - all the gossips, all unspoken suspicions rising back, the air in the sala suddenly thick with incoming revelation. I noticed how my father and Bernardo exchanged scared glances in the desperate need to find some way out. Yet it all didn't count right now.

Right now it was only me and Barcelo.

As soon as I noticed him in the tavern I quickly moved my scarred hand under the guitar - now I almost tenderly caressed the wood of the instrument – and smiled. At least we already have the fiesta, I thought preparing to stand up.

"Zorro! Zorro! The Fox is here!" someone shouted behind the window and the breathless lancer burst into the sala, forgetting all the discipline and grabbing Barcelo's arm.

Barcelo turned to him, very slowly and very reluctantly tearing his eyes from me – and through the open doors we all heard the horse galloping on the other side of the plaza.

All the chairs, all the tables fall, pushed aside, as the gathered people started to crowd themselves near the doors and windows.

I forced myself to look at the neck of my guitar. What is all this excitement about? Didn't the _capitán _just say that _el Zorro_ is alive? So he rides, nothing strange.

My father jumped to his feet with an indignant expression, but I blocked his way.

"Cheerfully, Father. Surprised, but cheerfully," I muttered silently, taking out the cigar from my pocket and lighting it from the candle staying on the table. Only then I walked toward the exit, pushed my way out and stood by Barcelo's side, admiring the black rider.

He must have just pinned some note to the doors of _cuartel_ with his dagger and now danced on his horse just in front of us, rather unhurriedly moving toward street leading out of pueblo.

Maybe there was a grain of truth in the _capitán's _words. From this point of view it did look a bit arrogant.

Anyway here we are. I and Zorro together, in the distance no longer than fifty yards, for all the pueblo too see.

I took the deep draw of the cigar, to get the _capitán's _attention – with my left hand of course, as in the right I still keep the guitar.

"I am not sure if I am following today's events, but you were right, _Capitán_, this man is very much alive," I remarked.

Barcelo almost jumped hearing my voice and moved his eyes from the black rider to me, then back to him, to me and – how close he had been! – to Bernardo, staying silently just behind me. But the masked man galloping along the _cuartel's_ walls was tall and slim, and showed off on his black mount as I usually do… Of course this horse was not Tornado, but from such distance only I could recognize it.

I noticed that Sergeant Garcia was staring at me with open mouth and equal disbelief as Barcelo, which was rather understandable. What I couldn't understand was this expression of disappointment on his face…

The _capitán _still stood stunned, looking a bit helplessly around. His mouth was moving, but no sound came out.

"After him?..." I suggested quietly.

The _capitán _shook like the hound getting out of water, returning to his senses.

"After him!" he shouted and the lancers, as if relieved from the spell, started to run to their horses. However, the black rider was already disappearing at the far end of the plaza; by the time the soldiers reach the stables and start the pursuit, there wouldn't be even a trail of him left…

The rest of the gathered people return slowly to the tavern, at first in the surprised silence, but soon in the sala resound the excited comments.

"One toast to the Fox, but it is the last one on house!" announced the inn-keeper, regaining his composure.

I sat calmly by my table, put away the cigar and raised the guitar on my knees:

"Something more cheerful now, I guess?" I proposed and when people around me nodded, started to play again.

My father shifted impatiently near my side seeming to be a little irritated with my nonchalance. Perhaps according to him I should be more concerned with the mysterious imposter…

But it was no mystery for me. I knew who has just been riding through the town in the black attire. I wasn't only sure whether I am more angry or amused.

On the second thought, when I saw through the window Barcelo's detachment starting the pursuit, and then my glance passed unknowingly on my gauntlets lying on the table, I decided that above all I should feel gratitude.

My sight for a moment crossed with Bernardo's and he made the small gesture of scissors behind his ear. I nodded slightly in agreement. I know. Fair hair, so uncommon here, must be cut very shortly, to be hidden under the bandana.

I didn't think I will ever say it, but… _Gracias, magistrado._ You would never suspect, but you have just saved my life.


	11. The truth will out 1

**The truth will out**** (1)**

The red liquid swirled in the glass, as my father gently leant the dark bottle over the small goblets.

"This was an exceptional vintage, one of the best we had as far as I remember," he said with a smile, "I have kept it for some special occasion, like, let's say, the baptism of my grandchild – and believe me, Sergeant, these bottles had more than enough time to mature – but now I would like to hear your opinion about it," he handed the glass to Sergeant Garcia.

The sergeant took it a bit shyly, obviously abashed by such special treatment. My father was always polite toward him, but never so cordial as today. The poor sergeant suspected that my father had rather low opinion about his competency and skills. And, unfortunately, he was right – until last week.

I coughed to hide a chuckle. Who would say that Sergeant Garcia will finally get my father's appreciation by the behavior absolutely unfitting to the King's lancer? Yet after I told my father how far the sergeant was ready to go to save _el Zorro _– or rather, to save me - he advanced quite rapidly at the list of the favorite guests in our hacienda. Something told me that from now on Sergeant Garcia can always count for the best wine from my father's cellar.

After the first sip of wine, the sergeant seemed to forget his confusion, closing his eyes and beaming with delight. Yet, the shadow of worry I noticed in his face when he came to the hacienda soon reappeared, so I discreetly winked to my father.

"Just exquisite," he sighed finishing his glass, "well, if you forgive me, Sergeant, I will leave you and Diego alone. I have some business at the rancho to attend to."

Even when my father left, the sergeant was reluctant to start the conversation. He even didn't finish his first glass, only swirled it slowly, absently admiring the deep color of the liquid. It was obvious that something heavy lay on his heart.

"So, my dear Sergeant, what's new at the pueblo?" I asked casually to encourage him, "How's the _capitán_? I haven't seen him for two days, exactly since his… performance at the tavern."

"He is very busy now… chasing the Fox," explained the sergeant with a sigh, "yesterday it was close… Zorro appeared near Professor Altamirano's camp – there were plenty of people from the pueblo helping the workers to move to your land," the sergeant added raising his sight on me and I confirmed:

"True, yesterday they finally relocated their camp to our rancho and are to start building that famous machine of the professor… My father and I are going to visit them after the siesta."

The sergeant nodded and continued his tale:

"Anyway, it is hard to say what Zorro intended to do. Some say he wanted to speak to people, but he didn't manage as the _capitán_ appeared with the lancers and almost got him. They chased him the whole night through the mountains, the sun was quite high when they finally returned. Empty-handed, but – it was close…"

I almost chuckled once again. Peraza must be quite tired today. You see now, _Magistrado, _it is not such an easy piece of work… And I never needed the whole night to lose the pursuit…..

Well, as for now, the point is that he didn't manage to speak with the people and praise Altamirano's invention yet…

"But you, Sergeant, didn't ride with the _capitán_ last night?" I observed taking the bottle. I wanted to pour him more wine but he showed me that his glass is still half-full. Really, my father would be offended if he saw it… Let's get over with it. "So, my friend, why are you seeming to be so... despondent?"

The sergeant sat for a moment in silence and finally raised his head, looked into my eyes and confessed:

"It is about you, Don Diego."

"About me?..."

"Yes, I came here to apologize to you," he finally finished.

During the years of our acquaintance, Sergeant Garcia came many times to the hacienda to apologize me. Like when he helped the Eagle's agents to set a trap for me… or like when he stunned me to prevent my duel with Avilá – that, by the way, almost cost my father's life… Always when he realized that he got me into troubles, at first he usually avoided me, but then, sooner or later, he infallibly came, with that solemn, yet pitiful expression…

And I was always very quick to reconcile with him. Even if I was still a bit angry, I tried not to show it, keeping in mind, that the day will come when I will have to apologize to Sergeant Garcia… I hope that for all his mistakes I forgave him, he will forgive me my one deception.

So when he came today to unburden his soul, I only smiled as friendly as usual:

"Apologize? For what? Don't worry, just tell me all about it, Sergeant."

He spread his hands a bit helplessly, shaking his head.

"It sounds now so stupid… Don Diego, for many weeks I thought you are _el Zorro_," he stopped for a moment and looked at me unsurely, so I smiled a bit wider and let him continue. "Until that moment when we saw him riding in front of the tavern, I thought – I was sure – you are that bandit, Don Diego. I am sorry. I feel like such a fool now…" he sighed once again and lowered his head.

I knew we will have this conversation. I knew what I have to say. Even if I would prefer… well doesn't matter.

"There is nothing to apologize for, Sergeant," I said just as many times before, with well-trained smile. "Well, I did notice that you behaved rather strange sometimes, but…"

"I just didn't want the _capitán_ to catch you," muttered the sergeant so quietly I hardly heard him, correcting himself after the second in his usual voice:

"I mean Zorro. I mean, I didn't want him to catch you, when I thought you are Zorro. Well, it doesn't mean I want him to catch you now, only that now you are not Zorro, so… Of course you have never been, but I just…" he got lost completely and didn't finish, only waved his hand. "I am just sorry. You may feel offended, Don Diego, but I had to tell you."

"I am not offended, Sergeant. In fact it is rather… You know, you thought I am Zorro… and you risked quite a lot to help him. It is very… Well, you should rather be – I meant you could rather feel… well, cheated," I finished clumsily, a little irritated with my sudden loss of words.

"Cheated?" the sergeant looked at me so surprised as if I have just said something very stupid. "But you are my friend, Don Diego! If you were Zorro, it would mean that he is my friend too!"

I had to cough again, though this time I wasn't masking the laughter. This time… I simply must still have some problems with my throat since that fire.

"I am sure that he is, my dear Sergeant. Whoever he may be, I am sure that he is your friend too."

Sergeant Garcia smiled unsurely but seemed to be rather unconvinced.

"Something still is bothering you, Sergeant?" I inquired.

"It is only that… Now it all has no sense. With Zorro being some strange man… I got used to the idea that he is you, Don Diego," he sighed shaking his head. "Now I feel as if I… just didn't know him. Like starting the puzzle from the beginning."

"I am sorry, Sergeant. I cannot help being the man I am," I said honestly, but then, as I really felt sorry for him, I promised: "One day, Sergeant, one day all puzzles will be solved."

But the sergeant didn't feel consoled, still deep in his musing:

"I am only an old fool, Don Diego…" he repeated and, after a moment, shook his head as if he was still struggling with some persistent thought. "And yet this all would be so simple… It would explain so much… All of your luck, Don Diego, when it comes to fighting, all of your absences… Oh, I am sorry, Don Diego," he reflected himself. "I just wanted to say that it would be rather logical… had it not been for that rider two days ago…"

"Zorro," I corrected him.

"Zorro," he agreed sadly.

For a moment we sat in silence and I wanted once again to reach for the bottle, when I noticed that he still didn't finish his wine.

"Something else, Sergeant?" I sighed a bit weary. My glass was so very empty…

"Nothing important," he started with hesitation. "I just wanted to ask you – on that day in the tavern, what did the _capitán_ want from your hand?"

"Oh, this?" I casually showed him my hand with a few still visible scratches. "I tried to train Rosa's horse – that white one – and he threw me just on the fence. I will better leave it to Benito. But really, I do not know why _Capitán_ Barcelo asked me about it. I think he was just drunk."

The sergeant nodded a few times with pensiveness.

"I believe so. He must be rather ashamed now, it will be best not to remind him about it."

"It will be the best," I nodded too.

We didn't say anything else and we didn't even exchange glances. Yet, the sergeant, unexpectedly heartened, finally emptied his glass and I gladly refilled it.

Now I dealt with the bottle quite quickly.

* * *

As soon as I bade farewell to the sergeant and returned to the library, the doors to cupboard slowly opened and Rosa's face appeared at the exit from the secret passage.

"You have heard?" I asked looking around to check if no servants were in the view.

"This house is just made to eavesdropping," she admitted with delighted smile, reaching for my hand when I helped her to get out of the hidden corridor.

For a moment I wanted to warn her to be cautious with the passages, as the exits on the first floor were rather narrow and in her present condition she might… ehm… actually get stuck in them… but luckily my Guardian Angel was awake and I bit my tongue in time.

"The picture of Peraza spending the night on horseback in the mountains, chased by lancers, is just delicious," she smiled very content. "I guess he didn't think it over too precisely."

"On the contrary, he did," I shook my head. "He must have fallen on this idea much earlier, wondering what to do if the Fox refuses his proposal, if his blackmail fails... He made preparations," I reminded her, pointing at my hair. "After he heard from me that Zorro was most probably dead, though no one could state it for sure, it was a perfect moment to start his show… but he was ready to play the role of the Fox, even with the real one alive… I wonder if it wasn't the pressure of his gloomy companion that made him so desperate?"

"Oh, whatever," said Rosa, her face changed with anger, "companion or not, it was Peraza, who intended to cheat people to support Altamirano's invention. In your name! Oh, for the first time I regret that lancers are so bad at shooting!" she swore quietly.

"Don't forget he is my alibi. It is good the Barcelo didn't catch him, if he did, he would guess it was not the real Zorro riding through the plaza two days ago," I warned her.

"Yes, yes, it is good Barcelo didn't catch him, but nice he chased him so effectively. Anyway, next time we may not have so much luck. Either this rascal will get caught, or he will manage to use Zorro's recognition to lure the peons. That is why the sooner you do something with our adventurous _magistrado_, the better."

All right, to be honest, my gratitude for Peraza quickly faded and I was simply boiling with fury on the very same thought of this man trying to misuse people's faith in my _alter persona_ to serve his plans.

However, direct confrontation with him now would mean awaking the storm around me that lately calmed down a little. The storm that Rosa was exactly in the middle of.

"That is what I have to discuss with you, Rosita. Each time the paths of me and Damián cross, you pay for it. I wouldn't like to endanger you further, even if it would mean that…"

"Me?" she looked at me and something very dark glittered in her eyes, "That man offended me too many times. He tried to arrest me and treated me like an idiot, then he accused me of adultery and blackmailed me. Diego, if you don't see on your own it is the highest time for you to do something with him, let me explain that it is!"

Well, it seems that her opinion is rather unambiguous. I love her ability to present the situation from the point of view that is so… convenient for me. I regained my humor and looked at her with mischief:

"My dear, aren't your expectations toward me a bit too high? Don't forget you married a pacifistic scholar."

"My pacifistic scholar may go tonight to his room and read some of his tedious books for the whole evening. I will not disturb him," she replied with the same roughish smile that must have appeared on my face.

So, if _Magistrado _Peraza planned an early sleep this evening, I will have to disappoint him…

* * *

Before the interesting night encounter, I had a rather uninteresting visit in Altamirano's new camp ahead of me. At first, my father and I planned to welcome him on our rancho alone, but to our surprise, just as we were to leave, at the hacienda appeared Carmelita in the company of Corporal Reyes.

"If it will not cause too much troubles, _Senores_, I would like to go with you and see how the professor is setting about to his work. I was always very interested in… geology," she recited with rather unhappy and disgusted face.

"We will be delighted with your company, my dear," replied my father although he couldn't help raising high his eyebrows after that surprising declaration.

Her presence changed our plans a little and Rosa decided to go with us also, to accompany Carmelita. It required taking a carriage, so it took a while to harness the horses. In the moment of commotion I pulled Corporal Reyes aside:

"The _senorita_ is interested in geology?..." I asked him quietly.

Corporal Reyes was a man with a gift of speaking little, but always to the point.

"The _capitán_ wants to keep an eye on Rivera," he explained with his usual tired expression, "but he doesn't want Rivera to know that he keeps an eye on him."

"So he asked the _senorita_ to go so that you could enter the camp as her escort, Corporal?" I asked knowingly and Reyes melancholically nodded.

I smiled. Barcelo was in form again… He might be chasing after Zorro with all his strengths, but he neither forgot nor neglected his suspicions concerning Oscar Rivera…

"Well, Corporal, good luck with your job," I patted his shoulder and headed for the carriage, already waiting in front of the gate.

* * *

As we arrived at the new location of Altamirano's camp, I could see that Oscar Rivera and his workers didn't loaf. On the small meadow stood three tents – one of them, visibly larger, must have belonged to Professor Altamirano. All their supplies of wood and steel laid aside and in a distance of a few yards from the camp, just behind the small rocks, began the construction of some machine, resembling the sketches the professor showed me during our first encounter. Rivera and the workers – my old acquaintances, Jaimé and Chaco among them – were bustling around it and Professor Altamirano sat by the small table in front of his tent. All in all, the whole scene looked very professional.

I wasn't misled for a second.

When they saw us, the professor and Oscar Rivera immediately left their activities and approached us.

"Welcome, _Senores_. I hope you are comfortable here? Do you need anything?" my father greeted him politely. It did cost me a lot to persuade him to be polite toward Rivera…

"No, Senor de la Vega. We are provided with everything," Professor Altamirano bowed to him.

I helped the ladies to get out of the carriage. When Carmelita saw Rivera, she stiffened with fear, so I gently headed her for my father and she immediately grabbed his arm, half hiding herself behind his back. Barcelo should have thought a little, before sending her to meet the man who almost killed before her eyes the boy she was so sweet on…

In the meantime, Corporal Reyes dismounted and stood aside, leaning on his musket and seeming to be drowsing. Bernardo sat on the ground near him, plotting a little bouquet from the wild flowers. Being honest, they both looked right now like the pair of harmless idiots. And yet something told me nothing in the camp will escape their attention…

I smiled to my thoughts and joined the conversation.

"It took you quite a while to choose the location and relocate the camp," I noticed innocently, yet watchfully observing the professor's reaction. "Do you think that now the works are going to proceed faster?"

I noticed the confusion in his face, but before he managed to utter the word, Rivera replied for him:

"Do not wonder that it took us some time, Senor de la Vega. These materials are heavy, we wanted to make as sure as possible, that after the one transport we will not have to move them again very far."

Carmelita, hearing his voice, clung to my father's arm as the scared child, yet Rivera didn't pay attention to her, not tearing his eyes from me. He tried to speak humbly, but he couldn't hide the malice shadow in his eyes.

Real wolf in sheep's clothes he is… He might pretend to be the assistant, but from the way the professor stepped aside, when he started to speak, it was obvious he is afraid of him.

And I knew he was lying. They visited the rancho only once or twice since I have given them my map. They didn't examine the soil, they didn't look for the suitable place, they only played for time… until their third friend in my black disguise manages to raise the hopes of simple people so high, that neither the facts not the logic will count anymore.

"And you think that it is the right location? If someone asked me, I would say it is the last place to dig a well," asked my father with doubt in his voice.

"Well, we will not be able to say for sure until we build the machine," replied the professor with hesitation. "Maybe here, maybe somewhere in the neighborhood…"

"But definitely not in the place you would expect it to be, Don Alejandro. That is exactly the value of this invention," we heard the voice of Damián Peraza, who has just arrived to the camp from the opposite side and now greeted our small gathering.

"_Buenos Dias, Senoras, Senores_, both the professor and I are honored with your visit."

Well, well, how poorly we look today… _Magistrado _did his best to keep his usual composed and self-confident pose, but there were dark shadows under his eyes and when he was getting off the horseback, I noticed that he winked slightly when the stiffened muscles refused to obey.

"Heavy day, _Magstrado_?" I asked carelessly.

"Some of us actually do something," he spat angrily, but then reminded himself that politeness will serve him better and turned to Carmelita:

"_Senorita_? It is a pleasurable surprise to see you here, but what a pity that your uncle didn't come with you."

"He was on a pursuit after Zorro for the whole night… Now he and the lancers are resting in the _cuartel_," explained Carmelita in a tiny voice, not releasing the grasp on my father's hand.

Peraza didn't manage to hide the irritated grimace. Frustrating, isn't it? When the people who hunted you can calmly rest, and you have to go on with your daily routine, make up with your face and smile… Oh, well, with this smile I have gone too far. The _magistrado _rarely smiles.

"Oh, Professor, since we are already speaking about this… I heard that Zorro tried to disturb you yesterday while you were moving the camp?" I thought it will be interesting to pursue this thread a little.

"Disturb? No, _Senor_, I would rather say he tried to show us his support," once again Rivera spoke for the professor.

"Support? That outlaw?" my eyebrows went high with the indignation. "You should be careful, he is a very dangerous bandit. Oh, didn't you suffer from his impudence, _Senor_ Rivera?" I observed innocently, not caring for an outraged gasp of Carmelita.

"That was a misunderstanding," mumbled Senor Rivera finally abashed, but I energetically shook my head.

"Who could say what such villain has in mind? I believe we should all beware."

"He is not an ordinary bandit, Don Diego!" exclaimed Carmelita not being able to keep quiet any longer, "He did a lot of good for all the pueblo… Don Alejandro, don't you agree?" she turned to my father with tears in her eyes, seeking his support.

"Well, to some extent…" my father was beginning to be an expert in the ambiguous remark concerning his attitude toward _el Zorro._

"Even for the lancers…" we heard sleepy voice of Corporal Reyes from behind our back.

"It seems you are rather lonesome in your attitude toward that man, Don Diego," remarked maliciously Damián Peraza. "Of course we don't know yet the opinion of your wife. Dona Rosa, you are so quiet today. Would you share with us your judgment about the Fox?" he asked ironically, evidently seeking for some victim to wreck his frustration.

Rosa slowly moved her eyes on him, as if she for the first time acknowledged his existence, and the expression on her face clearly indicated that she was looking at something very disgusting.

"Of course I agree with my husband," she replied coldly.

"Of course," grinned Peraza not hiding the irony.

I was about to reply something very unpleasant when Carmelita, unaware of sudden tension that appeared between us, sobbed loudly:

"Zorro is not a bandit!"

"_Senorita_… do not forget that your uncle's mission is to catch and hang him…" tried to reason my father. "And, do not forget also that your uncle almost died in the fire during the fight with him."

"Oh, no, my uncle told me that _el Zorro _saved his life helping him to get out of the fire…" Carmelita quickly denied, swallowing the tears. "And when they spoke after that…"

"They spoke after they got out of the fire? The _capitán_ saw Zorro after the fire? He survived it?" suddenly interrupted her Peraza, losing his composed disposition.

See, _Magistrado, _your situation is getting complicated. Now you not only have _Capitán_ Barcelo on your tail… but also the real Zorro. And if I can make any assumptions about his attitude toward your initiative… he is rather irritated.

"Oh, well, he did. The _capitán_ told it to the whole pueblo," I explained obliviously.

"I haven't heard it. I was busy," replied Peraza trying to compose himself.

Very important lesson, _Magistrado._ No matter how tired you are, you can never dismiss any gossip around you…

"Anyway, let's finish this idle conversation," waved a bit impatiently my father. "Professor, you wanted to show us your installment… If you please, tell us how you are going to proceed with your works…"

We moved slowly toward the strange construction behind the camp, the professor took his schemes and started to explain what he intends to do and why… I must admit that he drew my attention for a moment, till I suddenly realized that neither Rosa, nor Damián is with us… Of course, when he learnt that Zorro is still alive, she again became an important pawn in his play…

The professor has just finished to speak and waited for questions. My father sent me an expectative glance – I was sure that he stopped listening to Altamirano's lecture after the first minute. Schemes and graphs for the man of action!

However, right now I didn't care for the professor's explanations. I looked around and, struck by the happy idea, pulled Carmelita a bit forward:

"Professor," I said politely, "the _senorita_ is interested in geology. Would you be so kind and explain to her the composition of the soil and rocks here?"

Carmelita didn't dare to protest, but she scowled at me with real flares in her pretty eyes. A few minutes before I have offended her hero and now I have bound her for such torment… It seemed I have just made another enemy.

Altamirano, however, beamed evidently content that he found such gracious – and undemanding – audience and gladly started to speak. He spoke long and loud, with unction and deliberation; definitely it was a subject he preferred much more to his machine.

As soon as their attention was occupied I discreetly withdrew to search for my Rosa.

I noticed both her and Peraza behind the small rocks bordering us from the camp. Hidden by one of the stones, I listened for a moment to their conversation.

"_Senora_, your time is gone," said Peraza quietly, yet with threat in his voice.

"I just couldn't contact him. If I could, I would. I do not know what happened, maybe he was wounded or…" replied Rosa. She tried to seem anxious, but I knew her long enough to hear that she is simply furious. Peraza didn't, so he pushed her further:

"Try better, _Senora_. If you appreciate all you have now, your comfortable life, your patient, rich husband, if you care for the future of your child – try better…"

Mean small scoundrel. If I could, if I only could… unfortunately now I can only interrupt him.

"So, here you are?" I said lightly coming into their view. "What are you doing? Still discussing Zorro? _Magistrado,_ you seem to have strange inclination to this subject."

Seeing me, Rosa immediately swirled toward me and clung to my arm, almost hiding herself a bit like Carmelita behind my father some time ago. The difference was that she didn't look at Peraza like a scared child. She looked at me and in her eyes was a clear plea: 'Can you kill this man for me, Diego? Slowly? Please?'

Unfortunately it had to wait. And I hate so much to refuse her!

"Speaking about inclinations…" started Peraza with rather impudent smile, obviously intending to scare her a bit more with malicious suggestions in my presence.

I believe that if he was aware of the pictures I had right now before my eyes, he would lose his smile.

"_Magistrado_, you know I do not like you and I know that this feeling is mutual. However, accept one honest advice from me: don't irritate my wife," I interrupted him quietly.

Of course Damián Peraza would never appreciate any advice from me. He laughed with amused, malicious sparks in his eyes:

"You are a funny man, de la Vega," and raised his hand to pat my shoulder.

Then, however, our eyes met for a moment and he unknowingly winced, slowly moving back his hand without touching me.

For a moment we stood in silence until Damián shrugged his shoulders, turned back and quickly strode toward the Altamirano's camp.

* * *

When he left us, Rosa whispered quickly:

"You have heard what that rascal said?"

I nodded and she sighed:

"If he talks to Barcelo… The _capitán_ is intelligent and knows well both of us. It will renew and strengthen his suspicions… And I am afraid that one black rider won't be an alibi enough to scatter them."

I nodded again, she was right. Barcelo was the guest in our house so many times… He would never believe that Rosa could cheat me. And once he starts to doubt if the black rider I watched staying by his side two days ago was the real Fox…

I smiled to Rosa calmingly:

"We have already decided that I have to pay the visit to our _magistrado. _So I will._"_

"He will try to blackmail you too," she warned me.

"Let him do it. It is the high time to finish our story, one way or another," I concluded and we slowly went in search for my father and Carmelita.

Professor Altamirano was just explaining to our young friend usage of different instruments lying on the small table, unaware of the fact that the girl wriggles impatiently biting her nails. The high time to free her from that oppression…

My father stood aside, watching dubiously the beginning of the professor's machine. I passed the quick glance on the wood and steel bars that should be the first stage of the professor's _apparatus._ Well, as for now, it could be the rudiments of anything, from the big plough to some strange form of handmill. I only shook my head pointing my father that we can go. Whatever riddle the professor hides, I will sooner find its solution in Peraza's room than here.


	12. The truth will out 2

**The truth will out**** (2)**

As soon as it darkened, I took Tornado – yes, he was still offended for leaving him far from me while I was dealing with the fire, and no, cinnamon cookies didn't help this time – and rode to the pueblo.

Then I patiently waited for Peraza in his room. When he returned, he didn't notice me, although nothing more than the shadow of the wardrobe hid me. Really, the man who would like to become the black Fox should be more befriended with shadows…

Only when he opened the big chest staying under the window and started to search through some garments, I slipped behind him and with the peak of my rapier pulled out the little piece of black material. The mask.

"I do not like imposters, _Magistrado_," I said very gently.

Seeing the blade he stiffened, slowly turning to me, yet he quickly – too quickly – regained his composure.

"I thought you were dead," he stated shrugging his shoulders. "You should appreciate the fact that I wanted to revive your legend."

"To serve your purposes? You cut your hair long before the news of my presumed death were spread," I let the mask slip off the steel, but didn't lower the blade, keeping it at the high of his breast.

"Well, I had to do something as you weren't so kind to even reply my proposal. It was an honest offer and I did my best to prove it. Thanks to me you do not have to be afraid of headhunters anymore; and it cost me the conflict with the _capitán_ of the King's lancers…"

"And when this didn't work you have gone as far as to blackmail the woman," I interrupted his speech.

"No harm will come to her if I have your cooperation," he said almost serenely.

Then he moved with the bare hand my blade aside, walked through the room and sat comfortably behind his desk. He was so confident, so sure of his success, that it made him behave nearly friendly.

"Anyway, it is really good to see you fit and healthy, Fox… Do not worry, I will not compete with you in your masquerade. It is not fun at all. Nice, that now you will do it for me," he grinned.

"I didn't say I came to accept your proposal," I warned him, but he continued as if he didn't hear it:

"You lingered too long. Now it will be more difficult with this map of Diego de la Vega. Well, I do not care how you persuade him to resign from it, or to change it, just do it."

"During our last meeting you praised your idea as the invention that will serve the people… Now you so openly admit that it is nothing but a lie?" I asked a bit incredulously. I didn't expect such openness from him.

"The situation has changed," he stated lightly. "Now you have to play my game no matter what you believe in. Now I have the life of your little _querida_ in my hands." He spoke with his usual obliviousness, but the threat in his words and eyes was more than obvious.

"Life? You have nothing, _Magistrado_. It is only your word against hers," I tried.

"My words added to her actions when she saved you from the lancers' trap make quite a credible story, don't you think, Fox? Even if her family does not renounce her, Barcelo will change her life into hell, trying to get to you through her."

I shook my head with a smile… though this smile cost me much.

"I am not the man to be blackmailed," I stated as calmly as I could.

"This time you have no choice," he shrugged his shoulders for the second time, evidently unimpressed with my words. However, after a moment he turned his eyes from me and I noticed the strange change in his face.

"But I am a reasonable man," he continued surprisingly quietly. "If you cannot, or do not want to support my undertaking, I have another proposition. Kill Oscar Rivera," he finished suddenly, looking onto the surface of his desk.

I narrowed my eyes with surprise… and curiosity. I knew there was no love between him and his accomplice, but I didn't expect that he would go so far…

And then I recognized this strange expression on his face. It was longing.

It took my all self-control to once more reply calmly:

"I am also not a contract killer."

Peraza for a moment sat deep in his thoughts, until he energetically shook his head, as if moving some troubling reflections aside.

"No. You are the man who has five days," he turned to me with ironic smile. "Either in this time the mysterious Fox will speak in my support, making _haciendados_ change their mind – or I will hear about equally mysterious death of _Senor_ Rivera."

When you think that there is only one possible course of action, there is usually a second one. When you think you have only two options to choose from, maybe you should look for the third one… I run gently my fingers over the hand guard of my rapier, yet Peraza only leant back in his chair and raised mockingly his hands.

"Just do not think I will fight with you, Fox. I'd like very much to test your famous skills one day, but right now I have another… usage for you than a duel. Oh, and I do not suppose you would simply try to kill me, but – just in case – I must let you know that I left the instructions to Rivera. If something happens to me, he will inform the _capitán_, so that both you and pretty Dona Rosa will be in troubles. But," he suspended his voice for a moment and looked cautiously at me, as if he was making sure that I am listening to him, "if something happens to him – well, your lady is safe, Altamirano leaves the pueblo and you… You and I may never see each other again. Or we may become friends. If you are tired with _Capitán_ Barcelo, my offer of amnesty still stands," he smiled encouragingly.

In that moment I realized that he wants me to choose this option, that he much more prefers to dispose of Rivera than to succeed with their plan of water-whatever… That is how he arranged this conversation from the beginning, to give me the choice between cheating innocent people and getting rid of the villain…

I finally felt that I regained the control of this conversation. I sheathed my rapier and neared to him.

"You are very generous,_ Senor_," I said looking at him carefully. "Tell me, why do you go for such trouble instead of killing this man yourself?"

He suddenly flinched, biting his lips.

"You do not lack the skills, _Magistrado_, from what I heard," I continued not tearing my eyes from him, "and from what I see now, your conscience wouldn't stay in the way. You could even kill him in my costume, so that this death went to my account… So why don't you want to…"

"It is not your business!" he hissed, abruptly rising from his chair. For a moment he only breathed quickly then started to stride up and down through the room. I knew I touched something important. He was anxious, very anxious of something I said, as if I was very near…

Before I could work out the way of pushing him further, he stopped and turned toward me, his voice still shaking:

"Well, I made you a proposition. Do you want to reject it right now? Please, do. The very same evening, the de la Vegas will get so troubling news that they will not care for the professor's tests anymore. And I will regain the friendship of _Capitán_ Barcelo by showing him the way to catch you."

If the third way fails, go and search for the fourth one…

"Don't do it. You will hear about me before the five days are gone," I said calmly.

I swear he will.

He only nodded, apparently having lost the willingness to talk. Strange, he is usually so outspoken… I was about to leave, when I reminded myself that I should solve the problem of the false Fox riding through the pueblo.

"As for the costume you used, keep it, _Magistrado_," I advised him heartily. "It may serve me very well, if _Capitán_ Barcelo finds it in your chest one day."

I left the room through the window and when I cast the last glance through the pane, I saw Peraza throwing the bundle of black rags into the fire.

* * *

I slowly sneaked through the pueblo to the sheds behind the tavern where I left Tornado, wondering if there is something else I could do tonight, taking the opportunity that I am already in my black disguise, when suddenly I heard the loud voices on one of the tavern's yards and patter of little legs just behind the corner of the building.

I moved into the shadow and observed, as breathless Carmelita rushed out from the yard and tried to open the side doors leading to the guest rooms in the tavern. Unfortunately, the doors were barred from the inside. The girl unsuccessfully fought with them for a while, then sobbed pitifully, pulling the door handle. Unfortunately, the doors, not belonging to the masculine gender, remained impervious to her tears and didn't gave in.

"Some problems, _Senorita_?" I asked emerging from the shadows.

Carmelita flinched and beamed with relief:

"It is you! Yes, I was talking with Miguel, just talking and only for a while, when my uncle came. I ran before he noticed me, but if he finds me here… Oh please, do something!" she looked at me hopefully and… expectantly. Apparently the senorita got used to me solving her problems…

I shook my head and sighed with reproof, but didn't say anything, only kneeled by the doors, slipping the dagger between doors and frame, so that I could lever up the bar with the blade.

"All right, _Senorita_, may I wish you pleasant dreams and no more night excursions," I opened the doors for her and pointed the stairs leading to the floor with her rooms.

Carmelita lighted with the grateful smile:

"Thank you! I don't care what people say, you are the nicest man in the word!"

She jumped, throwing her arms around my neck, quickly pecked my cheek and flew up the stairs, disappearing in the building.

I only for the second time shook a bit helplessly my head, and then headed in the direction of the noises in the backyard. If Barcelo was already so near, why not use the occasion? At first, I didn't want to show him that Zorro – just as Diego – is suspicious about the _magistrado's _intentions, but now I would need any help to deal with Damián.

Finding Barcelo wasn't difficult, as in the quiet night's air I could clearly hear his angry shouts:

"Stop mumbling and finally explain me your presence here at this hour, Private!"

I moved in the direction of the noise. Poor Miguel Sanchez stood in front of Barcelo with his head lowered and indeed was mumbling something, torn between the loyalty toward his _capitán_ and the obligation to protect his sweetheart.

"Forgive me, _Capitán_, I do not want to interfere into your dealings with the lancers, but I need to speak with you for a moment," I chimed in, waving slightly with my rapier – just to suggest to them that I mean the private conversation, without the company of other soldiers.

Private Sanchez, so unexpectedly rescued by my arrival, beamed at my sight with the same relief as Carmelita a few minutes before. It seemed that I bring them luck tonight…

Barcelo stiffened for a moment and turned toward me with sour smile, a little irritated that I caught him by surprise:

"You already miss me, Fox? If you like my company, why didn't you wait for me last night in the mountains? I was quit eager to speak with you."

Hmm, to be honest… after the venomous politeness of Peraza I really welcomed Barcelo's taunts.

"The circumstances were not… conducive to conversation. Please, _Senor_," I turned toward Sanchez. "If you would excuse us, I'd like to speak with your _capitán_ alone."

Miguel wriggled a bit helplessly, again having to choose between contradictory obligations.

"Just go and sit quiet somewhere for a while, boy. I will not test your loyalty against the man who saved your life," calmed him Barcelo with a soft voice contrasting with the angry shouts he treated Miguel with a moment before.

Miguel quickly nodded and disappeared somewhere in the darkness… apparently running in the direction of the side tavern doors…

"Now, what do you want to speak about?" asked Barcelo.

"_Magistrado _Peraza and his interesting friends."

"I find them interesting too," the sudden glitter in the _capitán's_ eyes told me that I was having his undivided attention. Apparently he didn't mind catching the bandits with the help of another… bandit. I hid my weapon in the sheath.

"You should. Especially you should know that Damián Peraza is so determined to succeed that he was eager to use my help."

Barcelo bit his lips, but then only shrugged his shoulders.

"I can understand that sometimes people use your help," he admitted.

"But I do not like if they want to misuse it," I moved a bit closer and said emphatically: "Their whole plan is a deception. The _magistrado _admitted that to me. And Rivera is just a bandit. I don't know what the professor is doing in their company, but they are deliberately planning to cheat people."

"What exactly do you know?" asked quickly Barcelo.

"Unfortunately, not much more. The _magistrado _is very cautious. But one thing is sure, his honesty is more than questionable. By the way, you may be interested in hearing, _Capitán_, that he offered me amnesty for my help."

"What?" Barcelo stiffened, opening wide his eyes.

"Remember the wanted posters, _Capitán_? That had to be a proof of his good will."

I didn't have to add anything else, Barcelo was simply boiling.

"It is the mockery of the office he keeps! He is not worthy of being the King's official! Plotting some mean intrigues, misusing the power entrusted to him to treat with the bandit…" suddenly he reminded himself about me and added apologetically, in much calmer voice, "No offence, _Senor_, but…"

"None taken," I grinned. "Believe it or not, but I do not appreciate such deeds too."

"I believe you. You didn't take amnesty," he nodded seriously.

"_Capitán_ – just keep an eye on them, will you?"

"I already did. Now I will keep two eyes, of this they may be sure, _Senor_," he muttered through clenched teeth. Suddenly, he raised his head, evidently scared by the thread of understanding that appeared between us:

"But, Fox, it doesn't change anything between us."

"Of course it doesn't," I agreed politely and bowed, disappearing in the darkness.

Long after that conversation the amused smile didn't disappear from my face. The _capitán_ didn't even notice… that he believed in each my word without a moment of hesitation. How did he put it out? Treating with the bandit…

Oh well, I was always of the opinion, that when the aim is noble, the means leading to it may be a little… controversial.

* * *

After that long day I spent rather sleepless night, trying to work out a suitable plan to expose the deception of the _magistrado _and his companions. Unfortunately, in spite of the fact that I plotted thousands of plans, each of them had too many week points.

There were just too many unknowns in that story…

Each chain is only so strong as its weakest cell, I repeated too myself getting up and dressing for breakfast. The problem lied in finding out which cell was the weakest…

Definitely not Peraza. He was the last man to be frightened. What's more, after the few rides as _el Zorro, _my black disguise didn't intimidate him, as many other people with guilty conscience.

Rivera? He was a ruffian, but not a common ruffian, if both the _magistrado_ and the professor were afraid of him. Besides, I saw him both as Zorro and as Diego de la Vega, and on both occasions, I saw in his eyes such deep cruelty, such pure evilness I rarely met in my whole life… Men like he never end as the regretful penitents.

Finally Altamirano. He seemed to be the most decent from them, only threatened. And he was the real scientist, his books confirmed that. As for now there was nothing I could accuse him of – at least not until his tests will prove the failure of his invention. And with their pace of work the tests can take weeks I didn't have…

A quiet knocking interrupted my musing.

"Barcelo came to visit you," said Rosa when I opened the doors. "I asked him to wait in the library… it is dark enough there to hide your hand."

I nodded, pulling down the cuffs, and went quickly to the library. In fact, I was expecting him. There were a few things we had to explain to each other.

Barcelo was a different man that Sergeant Garcia. As soon as I entered, he stood and turned toward me, coming straight to the point:

"Don Diego, I came to apologize to you," he said a bit formally, but I saw the shadow of worry in his expression. He really cared for my friendship.

"Let me guess – for thinking that I am _el Zorro_?" I replied merrily.

"Yes, Don Diego," he didn't smile back only nodded seriously. "I do not know, how I could make such mistake… It seems that the logic in the weapon of two blades… and one of them is always directed at its owner…"

"There is nothing to apologize for, _Capitán_," I recited, "you only did your duty."

"There is, Don Diego," he shook his head. "You saved my life and I in exchange for it brought you suspicions and accusations. I was ready to arrest you. I just… I just…" he stuttered a little and looked straight into my eyes: "since that moment when you refused to give me your word that you are not Zorro, I just didn't search for Zorro anymore… only for the proof of your guilt."

"I understand you, _Capitán_. But I could never use the world of the de la Vegas in such way," I said quietly. Well, it was true. I couldn't.

"Let's not get back to it, Don Diego," he waved sadly his hand, "I have been punished for my mistake. While I was suspecting you, the Fox has eluded me. My time here is almost over and I am slowly losing hope that I will catch him. I only hope that I will not lose your friendship."

"Of course not," I said honestly. I do like _Capitán_ Barcelo. I cannot wait to start receiving the letters from him, when he will be away. Far away.

"_Gracias_, Don Diego," he sighed evidently relieved.

The official part of the conversation was over, and the mood got a bit more informal.

I filled the glasses and we both took a sip of wine to celebrate the end of our misunderstandings. By the way, I hope he didn't notice I kept the glass in the left hand.

Then I patiently waited for the _capitán_ to raise the second subject he came here with.

"Don Diego," he started slowly, "you were quite suspicious about Professor Altamirano and his great invention from the beginning?"

"And I am still," I nodded.

"I believe you may be right. And, if I do not manage to convict the Fox, I would at least like to solve this case. Sergeant Garcia will not cope with it. Have you found anything to support your suspicions, Don Diego?"

If I had, I would have told you yesterday, my friend…

"Nothing," I admitted with regret.

Barcelo bit his lip with disappointment. He evidently hoped for my help.

"If I would have to choose between catching _el Zorro _and Peraza, I would gladly choose Peraza. But I just cannot bear the thought about them both eluding me," he muttered rubbing his temple.

Suddenly he raised his head as if struck by the sudden idea:

"And the books? Do you remember the books I brought you from Monterey? Have you had the time to read it?"

"Yes, I did," I sighed, regretting that I will have to disappoint him again.

"And Altamirano is..."

"Well, he belongs to the supporters of plutonism," I started slowly. "He assumes that all rocks existing on the Earth have originated as the result of volcanic activity…"

"That is not… necessary Don Diego," he interrupted me hurriedly. "I just wanted to make sure if you, by any chance, haven't found anything interesting in these books."

"Not with regard to the case of _Magistrado _Peraza," I replied with a smile. "I read all the books and there was nothing that could serve you."

Barcelo sighed heavily:

"If I only knew where to start…" he muttered.

If I knew where to start, my friend.

"Anyway, I can return the books too you now," I said standing up.

"I guess I should slowly start packing," Barcelo smirked with self-irony.

I took the pile of books, but just as I was going to hand them to Barcelo, I noticed that one was missing.

"Oh, no, I forgot about the last one," I looked around the library, finding the forsaken volume on the small table, where it laid untouched since I threw it aside when my father brought me the news about the arrest of Sergeant Garcia.

I wanted to give it back to Barcelo too, but I hesitated. Something always forced me to finish the lecture, even if the book wasn't too interesting…

Well, in this case I have read only the title. I looked once again for it.

"_Theory of the Earth; or an Investigation of the Laws observable in the Composition, Dissolution, and Restoration of Land upon the Globe,_" I read aloud, "It seems it should be an interesting lecture. And…"

For a moment I stiffened.

"And this one has two authors. Hernan Altamirano and Guillermo Guinassi," I finished and looked expectantly at Barcelo.

_That idiot Guinassi. _Rivera said it just before he noticed that Miguel Sanchez was overhearing the conversation and got so irritated that he almost killed the boy. I doubt that he was discussing the thesis of the plutonists with his companions.

Unfortunately, Barcelo didn't even wink. Miguel must have forgotten to mention to him this one small sentence… So, I will have to solve that riddle alone.

"If you don't mind, _Capitán_, I'd like to keep that book for a while longer."

"You are welcome, Don Diego. Just remember there are no more than two weeks till my departure," said gloomily Barcelo.

* * *

Luckily, the _capitán_ didn't stay much longer and I managed to finish the book before supper.

The reasoning presented in the volume was precise, thorough and very, very exhaustive. A bit to exhaustive, for my taste. However, all the effort paid back, when I reached to the last chapter. Though usually I do not find that kind of lecture particularly exciting, this time I just couldn't tear my eyes from it.

The last chapter was written by Guillermo Guinassi, the assistant of Professor Altamirano, who finished the last work basing off the professors notes, after his mentor's tragic death in the Bayern Alps.

* * *

I believe that Tornado slowly started to forgive me. Well, as we rode that night to the camp he did try to throw me into each bush of opuntias we passed by, but I am sure that he did it more on principle that from conviction.

The new camp was situated in much more convenient terrain – a lot of nice rocks and bushes to hide behind… I sneaked without slightest trouble into the tent of the man who came to the pueblo presenting himself as Professor Altamirano.

"You have a beautiful Italian name, _Senor_ Guinassi," I said quietly.

He abruptly raised his head in my direction and his eyes went wide with surprise and fear. I do not know whether he knew about Peraza's escapades, but even if, he immediately realized that it is the real Fox who stays in front of him.

And he reacted in the wisest way in such situation. He didn't try to run or shout for help only slowly sat on a small stool, wiping his temple.

"My mother was Italian," he replied with quiet resignation.

"That is interesting. Tell me something more about you, _Senor_ – or should I rather call you 'Professor'?" I inquired gently. That man looked tired and defeated, there was no need to frighten him more.

"I am not the professor," he stated blankly.

"So who are you? Tell me," I repeated.

"He will kill me," I heard the quiet whisper and felt sorry for him.

"Tell me all about it, _Senor_. I will try to help you, but you must tell me the whole truth," I also whispered leaning toward him.

_Senor_ Guinassi sighed and… did something that surprised me. He took the bottle of wine and poured it into two glasses, showing me the stool in front of him.

I heard many confessions people made to the Fox, yet never have my interlocutors treated me so politely.

It seemed that _Senor_ Guinassi was used to dealing with bandits.

"I was the assistant of Professor Altamirano," he started his story. "I spent many years with him, but I am not the real scientist. True, I had to acquire some knowledge from his field, I know how to examine and describe the samples of the ground, I read many books… but I was just his helper. Only a little more skilled than simple workers. When he died…"

He interrupted for a moment and took a sip of wine, looking into the flame of the lamp staying on the big wooden chest. I didn't urge him, only waited until he started to continue:

"When he died my situation was very difficult. I have never really finished any studies and there were plenty of younger men ready to take the most demanding duties to sneak into the favors of their mentors. The world of science can be just as cruel as your life here, on this desert, _Senor_," he turned to me with bitter smile.

"So you came up with this plan to secure your future?" I asked directing the conversation toward the point that interested me most.

"It was not my plan!" he exclaimed with indignation. "It was Peraza who plotted it! I would never participate in such mean deception!"

"But you did," I reminded him calmly.

His sudden outburst quickly faded and he looked at me almost humbly.

"I had no choice… After the professor's death, without work and any prospects for future, I was getting desperate. Then I met Peraza, he helped me… You must know how it happens. Someone offers you help, you return his kindness with some innocent favor, then he helps you again and you have to repay him once more… And suddenly it is not so innocent anymore. Before I realized it, that man had my… my reputation, my future… my freedom in his hands. When he came out with this last plan and asked me to come here, I just couldn't refuse. I had to go with him and play the role he wanted me to. The role of the famous professor. We have chosen Altamirano, as I had a few of his books with me… so I could use them to prove my competencies, to impress the people…" he finished hiding his head in his hands, too resigned to excuse himself any longer. I guess that the remorse must have been tormenting him for a long time.

"So this…" I almost asked him about the schemes, but luckily I bit my tongue. Not so many people in Los Angeles saw his schemes. "This… invention – it is a lie."

Guinassi turned his eyes away.

"Peraza came to me demanding I prepared the technical details. So I did… gathering the pieces of the information I caught at the university…" he started slowly and stopped, as if reluctant to continue. I waited patiently until finally he confessed: "_Senor_, I don't know how much about this machine you have heard… some parts of its theory are true, but all together…" for a moment he hung his voice looking at me with obvious shame, "all together it is just rubbish. I felt like a circus swindler all the time."

As the matter of fact… that was what he agreed to be. But there was no need for me to say it aloud.

I guess that there was a bit of scientist in him after all, as the part in which he had to admit he… peculated the scientific truth seemed to be the most difficult for him. Now he continued with much more ease.

"Anyway, I prepared the details, but the idea was not mine. To tell, the truth, it wasn't even Peraza's. It started with this French affair with water."

"Groundwater?" I asked mechanically.

"No. Spring water," corrected me Guinassi and I looked at him with curiosity: "Some cheater in Paris announced he had found the way to locate healing springs in the mountains. He was rather convincing, managed to set up a company, gathered the capital necessary to start the undertaking… and disappeared somewhere in the colonies. There was lot about it in the newspapers."

"I see the inspiration…" I smiled slightly, "Only the places of the intrigue and the escape were to be the opposite."

"Yes…" he nodded with bitter smirk, correcting himself after a while. "Well, not for all of us. From what I understood, the lawyer intended to stay in this pueblo, playing cheated and indignant after my disappearance."

Under the mask, I raised my eyebrows. If Damián wanted to stay here after the affair… that was indeed risky game he played… But I felt fury, the white fury toward him for destroying this old man who trusted him. And at the end he even wanted to put the whole blame on him, keeping his own name untarnished!

Guinassi must have been a good man once… only weak. I felt no anger toward him. I didn't want to cudgel him with more remorse than he felt already, yet I had to force him to tell me more about his earlier offences he did for Damián. I needed to hear the whole story of our _magistrado_, all small and big sins, starting from the beginning. Everything could be useful.

"So it started some time ago? In Spain? Did you and Peraza meet each other in Madrid, at the university?" I inquired.

Guinassi glanced at me a bit surprised, forgetting his shame for a moment.

"Madrid, yes, but definitely not the university. It was not the place that Peraza would be interested in."

I narrowed my eyes feeling the joyous thrill. Was our esteemed _magistrado_ entirely not the man he claimed to be?

"Didn't he study the law there?" I précised.

Guinassi looked at me in disbelief until the flare of understanding appeared in his eyes.

"Studied? Oh, you mean the lawyer, Damián. No, I barely knew him till I arrived here. I was speaking about Oscar, the older one."

I just sat and stared at him, so he added a bit anxiously:

"You didn't know? Well, I think it doesn't matter. If he learns that I was speaking to you, he will kill me anyway. I can as well tell you everything. Rivera is a false name. They are brothers."

Brothers.

_If you want to do me a favor, go to hell where you belong and never come back again, _sounded in my mind.

"I haven't seen much of brotherly love between them," I remarked trying to seize all the consequences of this information.

"Yes," Guinassi nodded. "Two boys, both very determined, only that they have chosen different paths to realize their ambitions… I do not know much about their relations but it is certain that there is no love between them. Well, Damián can be unpleasant, but I tell you, Oscar Peraza is worse than the devil himself… He was convicted many times, unfortunately he always managed to escape justice. Mostly thanks to Damián. Oscar extorted his help each time he needed it… And… well, you must have noticed that he is not a nice man. Anyway, I can imagine that he turned his brother's life into hell."

"And yet he agreed to help him… Why?" I whispered more to myself, but Guinassi replied.

"I don't know why, but finally his patience was over and he left Europe. And even when Oscar followed him with his new plan – in my company," Guinassi smiled sadly, "he didn't want to see him at the pueblo. He asked him to stay in Monterey."

"But he agreed to take part in this plan," I repeated shaking my head.

"Only that not everything went as planned. We didn't expect that someone will actually want…the proof of out theory. And yet it happened. We came across some pert lad… The things prolonged…"

"And Oscar got impatient," I surmised.

"Yes," nodded Guinassi. "So he came here to solve the problem on his own. You probably guess, _Senor_, that Oscar has only one way of solving problems. The lawyer protested. Surely the murder and investigation was not something the he wished here. He would have enough problems with lying himself out of one affair… So, he also stated he will solve the problem on his own. They started to quarrel at once. I don't know much more, I tried to stay as far from them both as possible," he concluded.

"Why did he get into such trouble?" I said with regret, thinking about the _magistrado_. "He could simply denounce Oscar, cause his arrest… Why didn't he choose this way?"

"And would you welcome in your lovely quiet pueblo the judge whose brother is a criminal?" the professor shrugged his shoulders as if he was wondering my naivety. "You can imagine what it would mean if their relationships were revealed. The young one would be finished, he just had no choice," he finished firmly.

He was not only trying to justify Damián, he was also justifying himself.

"There is always choice," I had to say it, though I tried to speak as gently as I could.

The professor took a deep breath as if he wanted to contradict me, but he said nothing, only slowly let the air out of his lungs. For a long while he looked at the table, until he raised his eyes on me again:

"Well, that is the choice we made. I was scared of Peraza and… yes, I needed money he promised me."

"And what did he promise to Damián?" I had to ask.

"That he will finally leave him alone and never appear in his life again."

For a moment I felt very… stupid. I was always sure that it was a pure greed that was the reason for the _magistrado's _actions. Now I felt shame… and compassion.

And then for the first time I reminded myself how Damián tried to talk me into killing… his brother… and felt simply sick.


	13. An eye for an eye

**An eye for an eye**

I looked behind the window of my room: the darkness slowly started to turn gray – it will be dawn soon. Then I checked the clock and tried to calculate the schedule for everything we were going to do next day.

Finally I turned to my father:

"I cannot use Barcelo's help. I read aloud in his presence the name of Guinassi as the second author of the book. It would be rather strange if just after that Zorro brought him the news about the identity of the man we had known as the professor, wouldn't it? Especially that the day before the Fox talked to the Capitán and had no idea about it. So, I already settled with Guinassi that he won't mention Zorro's visit in his tent. It is even convenient for him, it will make his repentance look more… genuine," I smiled slightly. "And I cannot inform Barcelo about the whole situation as Diego. I couldn't explain… the way I acquired this knowledge. So, we are on our own. We have to get Guinassi out of Rivera's hands and help him to get to the _cuartel_, to accuse his accomplice."

My father nodded with a bit sour expression. He already proposed calling for the vaqueros and attacking the camp on the very same night. I mercilessly rejected this idea.

"Now, Father, just after breakfast – and make it an early breakfast – ride to Guinassi's camp. Take only Benito with you, it cannot look suspicious. Or maybe take Bernardo too," I added after a while. "Say that some _rancheros_ got so impatient about his invention that they want to speak with the professor right now and you must take him to the hacienda."

"Why do I now have to cradle this imposter? Cannot he ride to the hacienda alone?" asked my father a bit irritated.

"He is too nervous. He will not be able to give Rivera credible explanation for this visit and will only raise his suspicions," I shook my head. After the night conversation with the professor, I knew that he was near total breakdown, so frightened of Oscar Rivera… well, Peraza that even if he agreed to testify against his accomplice, he wouldn't be able to behave naturally enough to mislead him.

"You are very attentive to ensure his safety, Diego," remarked my father with doubt.

"I promised him that. And besides, thanks to his testimony we will easily cope with Rivera."

"And the _magistrado_," reminded my father.

"Yes," I replied turning my eyes from him. "Anyway, take the professor – the fake professor – from the camp and go to the hacienda. Do not summon any vaqueros from the rancho. I am sure that Rivera is observing us very cautiously, he cannot notice that something extraordinary is happening at the hacienda. These who are actually in house must be enough. Ask them to accompany you to the _cuartel_, in case Rivera gets suspicions and tries to attack you with his men. You must guard this man until the others are arrested and…"

"Stop… preaching me, Diego! I am not that old yet, I know what to do!" snorted finally my father.

I just looked at him a bit unconsciously, trying to foresee all the possible scenarios.

"You know, maybe ask Bernardo to stay near Guinassi all the time," I added finally.

"Diego!…" my father almost jumped with irritation. "Get finally some sleep," he added so commandingly that I had to smile a little. At least he could always send me to bed.

"I will, Father," I said tamely.

"Oh Diego," he turned to me with his hand already on the door handle, "Why don't you ride tomorrow with us? It would be more than understandable. Your absence will be rather difficult to explain."

"If someone asks, tell them that I stayed with Rosa. I just… have to settle something else," I muttered, ordering the pillows on my bed to show him how eager I am to go to sleep, but he wasn't misled.

"Diego?..." he asked expectantly.

"I have to speak with Damián," I confessed.

"What for? You want to fight with him before he is arrested?" my father asked a bit unsurely, but I knew that this concept appeals to him.

"Actually I want to warn him so that he could defend himself. I don't think that he deserves the humiliation," I sighed, deciding to be honest.

"It is not about what you think, Diego!" exclaimed my father with sudden indignation. "It is about justice! The culprits must be punished!"

"That is what I am not so sure of anymore, Father," I smiled unsurely. "Who is the culprit and who is the victim."

"Peraza? The victim?" my father almost laughed.

"Things are not always what they seem to be," I reminded him, but he protested.

"Remember what he wanted to do to you… to Rosa!"

"This about justice, Father, not about my personal feelings," I finished quietly.

My father bridled angrily, making it clear that he does not agree with me, but left the room without further questions.

* * *

On the morning, I left the hacienda as soon as my father rode to Guinassi's camp. I do not like wearing the Fox disguise in the middle of the day… when it is so visible… and when it is so hot… Yet this time I had no other choice. I managed somehow to sneak into the pueblo and entered Peraza's office through the back door.

When the _magistrado _noticed me, he raised his eyebrows in surprise, but calmly stood up and locked the main door, so that no unwanted visitor could enter.

"What are you doing here at this hour, Fox? Have you already some news for me?" he asked.

"Yes. The conditions have changed, _Magistrado_." I replied without the sneer in my voice.

He tensed for a moment, yet did his best to hide the anxiety, only stood and waited for my words.

"I know you wanted me to kill your brother," I said almost gently.

Peraza took a deep breath, but showed no other sign of the impression my words made on him. He walked slowly toward his desk and sat behind it, for a long while looking at its top, just like during our last meeting. When he finally raised his eyes on me, he seemed to be perfectly composed.

"You were right, I should have done it myself," he remarked obliviously.

"Your brother, _Magistrado_?" I stressed.

"Do not judge me if you do not know what are you speaking about!" he hissed, suddenly losing all his self-control.

When I was a boy, I always wanted to have a brother. Not necessarily the older one, I was rather used to being the leader. But the younger one, to protect, teach and take care about, would be perfect.

I guess that this unfulfilled longing made me cherish the rather idealistic picture of brotherly bonds.

"No, I do not know and I am not judging you," I admitted calmly.

Damián for a moment stared at me and then shook his head, as if moving aside any shadow of compassion he could hear in my voice.

"So, why did you come here? What else do you know?" he asked harshly.

That was the right question. What was I doing here, risking the black attire in the bright day, instead of riding by the side of my father or keeping company to Rosita? The man in front of me was my enemy, he threatened me in my both incarnations, offended my wife, lied with the cool blood to the whole pueblo, cheated and blackmailed… Why am I here, trying to help him?

'_He promised Damián that he will finally leave him alone…'_

There is always choice and each of us must pay for the choices he makes.

And yet…

Life is complicated.

"What else do you want to tell me, Fox?" he urged me.

"That I know your third companion also is not the man he claimed to be. And he agreed to testify," I said finally.

Peraza for a moment kept silent, only a bit absently ordered some books at his desk.

"Oscar will kill him if he gets to know it," he noticed in his usual cold voice.

"I made sure that he will not. By now, he should have already arrived safely at the de la Vega hacienda. They will take him to Barcelo."

He didn't show any sign of relief, only muttered angrily:

"De la Vega…"

I guess it was a mistake to remind him about my family, so without further delay, I came to the subject:

"Guinassi will be talking with the _capitán_ in about an hour. Go to Barcelo now, before he arrests you. It will look better that way… even in the court."

For a moment he just looked at me with the expression I couldn't read:

"You would make a fine lawyer, Fox," he said finally almost smiling. "Why are you giving me a warning? I thought you swore to fight for the justice."

"I did," I replied seriously. "Only that, in spite of what the lawyers are taught, I do not believe that the justice should be blind."

"I agree. It is enough that the fate is," he replied and this time he really smiled.

There was something else I had to tell him.

"_Magistrado_, no one knows that Oscar is your brother. Guinassi won't say it too. It is between you two. Now, just go to Barcelo."

For a moment he seemed surprised, but then he looked at his desk once more and shook his head, his voice harsh again:

"I am not going to excuse myself to anyone."

"Maybe you should… Before this affair started – you were an honest man. This all could have turned out differently…"

"But it didn't," he interrupted me and I understood that I said something wrong. "I told you not to judge me."

I sighed. I should have known that Damián Peraza will not bear anyone to patronize him.

"You will do what you want. You have an hour and a choice to make."

"And for that choice I thank you," he nodded seriously. "Now, leave me alone."

There was nothing else I could do for him… but he could do something for me.

"_Magistrado_… now it will not change anything, so you can tell me. What exactly does Oscar know about Senora de la Vega?"

I doubted that the words of the criminal would be treated seriously, but I wanted to be prepared in case that man tries to use somehow accusations toward Rosa.

But Peraza only shrugged his shoulders.

"Nothing. I lied to you," he stated obliviously. "I wouldn't entrust to Oscar the life of the dog, not to mention the human being. Now, please, go," he finished and it sounded almost politely.

* * *

On my way back I noticed the big group of riders launching from our hacienda to the pueblo – it must have been my father with the escort and Guinassi… Good. In the cave I caressed Tornado for a while – he finally ate these damned cinnamon cookies – changed my clothes and ran through the passage.

To my surprise, in the secret chamber behind my room I met Rosa.

"Father asked me to wait here for your return, as the hacienda is empty," she explained. "He took all the men with him… and the maids quickly guessed that something extraordinary is going to happen at the pueblo, and wanted to see it… so I had no heart to keep them."

"I see that… you have made yourself comfortable here…" I noticed, passing the glance on the cushions, blanket, porcelain candlestick and… basket with needlework neatly arranged in my shelter. "It is much nicer that way," I added hastily.

Scared spiders cowered themselves in the furthest corners. Well, at least they survived. I looked a bit helplessly around searching for a place to put my black costume – the pin in the wall was occupied with some kerchief – pink kerchief – and finally I threw in on the chest.

On the second thought, I took it back and folded into neat pile.

"Aren't you afraid that Peraza might run away? Or even warn his brother and run away with him?" asked Rosa when I related to her my talk with the _magistrado._

She was the only one to whom I told the secret of Damián and Oscar Peraza.

"If he decides to escape, so be it," I shrugged my shoulders. "And if he helps his brother to avoid the justice… I will find them."

"Do you want to go to the pueblo now… to see what happens?"

"No," I replied. "Father will tell us everything. I did what I could. The pawns are set… the Fox can move back into the shadows. And we can go to the patio. It is a lovely day," I smiled to her.

For a while we quarreled over who is going to make lemonade. I won, and soon I brought the pitcher with the drink and glasses to the patio. Then I looked for my guitar… but I wasn't to play even a sound, as in the moment I touched the instrument, we heard the rider nearing to the hacienda.

"Go to the house," I waved for Rosa, putting the guitar away, "it might be Rivera."

But it was not Oscar Rivera. It was his brother.

When I opened the gate and looked at Damián, I understood that somewhere in my plans I made a big mistake.

I concentrated my efforts on ensuring Guinassi's safety… and on giving Peraza the chance to control his fate. I thought about the role my father was going to play… Bernardo… _Capitán_ Barcelo… I didn't suppose that I should also think about myself.

I couldn't recognize in Peraza the man I was speaking with merely an hour before. He wasn't smiling anymore. He was in his usual, cold and scornful disposition and he looked at me with mockery and threat in his eyes.

It seemed he made his choice.

Why didn't I notice I got so important for him that he decided to use the hour I gave him for dealing with me? Probably because before, Diego de la Vega was hardly ever important to anyone.

"Welcome, _Magistrado_. I didn't expect you," I said honestly.

"You do not have to call me so anymore, Don Diego," he smirked. "I saw your father riding to the pueblo… in a company… I guess you too know the real identity… of the professor."

"I do, as I do know your plan. What I don't know is the reason of your presence here."

Oh, I am afraid I do know it.

"As you weren't with Don Alejandro, I thought I will find you here," he said passing by me and entering the patio. Then he turned toward me with malicious politeness: "Don't you think we have some scores to settle? Well, I do."

I thought I made peace with you, Damián. Unfortunately, sometimes I forget to separate the businesses of Zorro from Diego's scores.

"I don't want to settle anything with you, _Magistrado_. And you have much more serious troubles now."

"True, true, I do. And yet I cannot resist finally teaching you a lesson, Senor de la Vega. I have dreamt about it since I first met you." He made a few steps through the patio and when after a while he looked at me I knew he was speaking the deepest feelings of his soul. "Do you at least realize how much luck you have? And you do nothing to deserve it."

I have much more luck than you can even imagine, _Magistrado. _And all I do is to risk it over and over again - I thought, yet I said nothing aloud. I only stood and waited, until he got impatient with my silence and concluded:

"Doesn't matter. I am calling you out."

How ironic.

I really welcome this proposition, _Magistrado. _Would you mind if I only put on the clothes in more suitable color?

"You know I do not fight."

Peraza waved his hand in the air and shook his head.

"Oh, don't worry. I am not going to kill you, I just want to leave you a reminder after me."

For a moment I considered fighting with him and letting him win, but the expression in his eyes made me rather reluctant to learn what reminder he had in mind.

"I will not fight with you," I repeated only. And he bit impatiently his lips:

"Oh, come on… What about the de la Vega honor? No? And if I a call you a coward? A lazy idler, a popinjay who would mean nothing without the money of his father? What else shall I say to you to make you fight?" he looked cautiously at me waiting for the suitable reaction. There was no anger in his voice as he spoke, he didn't want to offend me… only to make me take the blade.

You have too much too lose, Diego, I reminded myself. If I didn't want to finish in one cell with Peraza, I really shouldn't show my skills to the man who had the key to my alibi… who hated me… and who was going to spend quite a long time in the company of _Capitán_ Barcelo.

"Say what you want, _Magistrado, _I am not going to fight with you," I concluded my deliberations a bit resigned.

Peraza seemed to give up too. He said no more insults, only sighed, shrugged his shoulders and headed for the gate. Just a few steps before it he stopped and turned to me once again.

"One more thing, Don Diego! You may be interested in knowing that I saw your wife meeting this outlaw, _el Zorro_, and the circumstances of their meeting were rather… compromising."

So, he couldn't miss the last occasion to harm her… even though he would gain nothing by it… I felt no anger, only disappointment.

"It is just another of your lies. I don't believe you," I replied wearily.

And then I saw the triumphal smile on his face and understood that I said exactly what he wanted me to. It was not about Rosa.

"Very well," Peraza said with polite bow. "So defend her honor."

For a moment, I stood calculating all possible solutions and its consequences and he looked at me expectantly, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction that he cornered me so.

Actually you should be more cautious while cornering the fox, _Magistrado. _He may bite.

Peraza blinked surprised when I suddenly smiled and waved my hand in agreement.

"Oh, whatever. If you insist… I got tired with you anyway," I said and went to the house for the weapon.

* * *

When I entered the sala, Rosa was already waiting there with the rapier and gloves prepared.

"You have heard," I more stated than asked.

"I did," she nodded and squeezed my hand calmingly. "Don't blame yourself, Diego, you have done everything just as you should. You have been very patient and reasonable. And now," her eyes glittered with excitement, "as there is nothing we could do about it… Actually, I have never seen you fencing, Diego. Try to do your best, will you?"

"Everything to please my lady," I chuckled. If she wishes to have a show… After all, if I already have to fight him, why not enjoy it? It could be worse. He could have called me out in the pueblo…

"The hacienda is empty," whispered Rosa, as if she was reading in my thoughts.

True, but that was only half of the problem, the second half was Peraza. There was no way I could fight him awkwardly, like I did it a few times before… not him. I will have to do my best. And if he gets suspicions… suspicions going in the right direction… He challenged me and I knew it will be a fair fight. So, if I would have to choose between his life or mine…

We were already in the doors leading to the patio when I stopped and turned to her:

"On the second thought, I'd prefer you to wait inside, Rosita," I said gently, but she didn't move back.

"Don't worry, Diego. If you have to kill him, I think I will bear the view," she replied coldly looking straight at Peraza.

Women are gentle and tender creatures needing our care and protection; that is what my father taught me and that is what I believe in, I reminded myself, shaking my head, and exited the hacienda.

Peraza was waiting patiently, drawing small circles on the ground with his blade. When he saw me, he saluted me with mocking bow and took the position, impatient to start the fight.

There was only disdain in his expression, pose, gestures… not concentration or caution. Very unwise, no matter whom you fence with. And I wanted it to be a fair fight.

"You know, _Magistrado,_ the fact that I do not carry the sword doesn't mean that I wasn't trained to fight," I warned him quietly, standing in front of him.

"How impressive," he shrugged his shoulders. "Good, so maybe it will take longer than a minute."

I sighed and waved for him to start.

He lunged rather negligently and as soon as our blades met for the first time, I made his rapier fly away with one small gesture.

Well, if that was to be the fair fight, I had to show off a little, to make him do his best… Besides, Rosa was watching.

Peraza for a moment just stood and stared at his weapon that landed a few feet away from him. Then he looked at his empty hand, as if he couldn't believe that he is not holding the blade anymore. Then he looked at me…

"You take it and we continue, or do we consider that we are done, _Magistrado_?" I asked really politely, so I did not understand the flash of the anger in his eyes when he jumped for the weapon.

He lunged again, this time trying to mislead me with a little feint. Better, but still not the fight I wanted to have. I sighed again, pretended I am following the feint, twisted my wrist in the last moment and disarmed him once again.

This time Damián passed only one quick glance on his weapon and then stared at me with strange expression. It was surprise, curiosity, true, but also… amusement.

"It is going to be more interesting than I thought," he said reaching for his blade for the second time. "Now I really enjoy that I decided to pay you a visit."

He saluted me once again, this time without a trace of mockery, and cautiously made a few steps aside, keeping his eyes on me. I moved slowly too, not letting him to flank me, and this time I lunged first.

Finally the fight began.

I must admit that after that short lesson Damián started to appreciate me very quickly. In the first few minutes of exchange of thrust and parries he was careful and concentrated. We just moved slowly, very slowly, around the patio, not being too hasty with clashing the blades. I had an upper hand over him, I saw him fencing once. He never saw me, and surely now he regretted it, striving to learn about me as much as he could in these few minutes, trying one feint after another.

Yet the pace of the fight soon accelerated. No one can refrain himself forever… not with the sun glittering over the steel and the blades clashing with such inviting sound…

People at the pueblo laugh at me for being the poet, but it does not offend me. I believe that one must be at least a bit of a poet, to be a good swordsman.

So, I am sometimes a poet – and can appreciate both the beauty and a drama of the swordplay.

I think that Damian could appreciate it too. His eyes glittered when our moves fastened. Pretending to be forced backed by my thrusts he slowly moved back to the walls of the hacienda. I could easily believe in his weakness, if I didn't notice the excited spark in his sight. Just under the wall he suddenly lowered his blade and dived under mine, throwing simultaneously the rapier from the right hand into left, attacking from the angle almost impossible to parry.

Well, to tell the truth it was absolutely impossible to parry. Only that it cut no more than the air, as I wasn't staying there any longer, only rolled myself on the ground a few feet aside, quickly jumping to my feet with the blade in my hand, ready for the next thrust.

Peraza smirked with reluctant recognition.

I had a friend in Madrid, Pablo Pinto, who loved fencing just as I did. We spent hours exercising together. Once, in the moment of melancholy, he asked me if I am not afraid that men like us soon will become the relict of the ancient, useless discipline, whereas the future belongs to the firearms. Perhaps he was right, I don't mind using the pistol. Yet fencing is about something more than only fighting. It is the way of thinking.

It is about control.

Control about each move of you and your opponent, about foreseeing each thrust, and the reaction to it, and reaction to the reaction… It is so easy to get carried away by the emotions, by the satisfaction with each successful parry… by each step back that you forced on your opponent… So easy to get drawn into the magical circle of the clashes and glitters of steel… I am vulnerable to that exhilaration too, and I cannot resist laughing when I fight. But I do not lose control.

After the unsuccessful trick, Peraza stopped playing blind's man buff with me, instead making the best use of his technique. He must have had good teachers in Madrid, the pick of his blade whistled in the air, cutting it so quickly that it was almost invisible… though somehow I always managed to meet it. From the way Damián bit his lips with irritation, I understood that he appreciated my teachers too.

I caught the glimpse of Rosa watching me with widely open eyes, just as this little girl to whom I gave flowers during the tournament a few weeks ago. I cannot deny that I felt very satisfied with the admiration in her sight.

Since Madrid, I haven't actually had an occasion to fight as myself – to fight really, without having to make myself the laughing stock of the pueblo. I must admit, I missed it a little. And, what is more, since Madrid I had never had such a good partner as Peraza, who would give me the possibility to show my best… Strange, but when I looked at him, it seemed as if he was feeling something similar. He was all in the fight, forgetting his surprise, forgetting whom and why he duels. And, to my surprise, he was smiling too – and it was neither cruel, nor mocking smile. In that moment I almost liked him.

However, I was fully aware of the fact that his smile would grow even wider, if he managed to run his blade through my body.

Which one of us was better? Key question, but hard to answer. There are so many things that can decide about the outcome of the duel… Skills, technique, speed, strength… Yet I had one advantage unavailable for him: I fought many times for my life and I already knew how much strength my determination to survive can give me… And Damián, no matter how deadly an opponent he was during tournaments or duels, surely didn't have an occasion to test himself so many times and learn how far his limits are. I knew he will get tired first. I tried to use the pace of the fight to my advantage, not letting it to slow down, moving quickly back and forward, forcing him to follow me…

It is not that I first had successful thrust, it is rather that he first made the mistake with parrying – what, in such situation, means exactly the same. My blade passed his and slipped over his shoulder, immediately marking the white shirt with the bright red stain.

I moved back a little considering how serious the injury might be, but he didn't throw his weapon away. The pain seemed to bring him back to his senses, the playful expression disappeared from his face, as he realized that he was just hit by the man whom he holds in such contempt.

He looked at me with fury and attacked with doubled strengths.

In that moment I knew I won that fight.

It wasn't that the pain made him slower or weaker. It was because of the anger that made him lose control.

He lunged forward with the most reckless fury, our blades clashed together just near the hilts and for a short moment we strained to push away one another. He didn't manage to outbalance me, but instead of leaping into safe distance, he let his arm to twist awkwardly. The steel grinded as the blades slipped one over the other, mine going closely, so closely to his face - and I heard him hiss with pain when the rapier fell off his hand.

Well, that was a rather unpleasant cut, through the cheekbone till the hairline. Not deep, but the scar will remain for a long. So, it seems it was me who left him the reminder he spoke about… Anyway, he should be happy that the blade missed his eye.

Maybe he would be blinded by anger enough to continue the fight and get himself killed… but that wouldn't be a fair fight.

"There is no use to continue. We are done, _Magistrado_," I said putting aside the rapier.

He looked at me gloomily but didn't reach for his weapon only nodded slightly.

My thoughts were rather somber too. Now it was the time to deal with the consequences of the fun. Peraza was fully aware of my skills with the blade and probably already wondering why I was hiding them. I slowly took the gloves off and put them on the table together with the rapier, preparing to the inevitable conversation.

Rosa, who ran into the patio just as soon as the fight ended, handed him with a venomously polite smile a linen cloth. Peraza took it absently, pressing to his cheek, not tearing his eyes from me. Unfortunately, he seemed to calm himself quickly. I could see how both the excitement of the fight and the bitterness of failure disappear from his face giving place to… consideration.

"You are the man of surprises," he said finally. "And only now it dawns to me that your skills with a blade aren't the only one." He spoke a bit dimly and winked slightly, yet paid no attention to pain, only pierced me with cautious sight. "You are a strange man," he continued slowly. "A swordmaster, who does not carry a sword. A weakling and idler, who is not afraid to speak his mind… and is so determined to prove his point. And finally, a caring husband, who does not mind his wife abetting a bandit..."

"That is how the world is, _Senor_. Complicated," I replied vaguely keeping his glance.

"On the contrary, now I see it is much simpler that I assumed," he muttered with mockery.

Rosa swirled anxiously by my side and moved slightly forward, but I squeezed her hand and pulled her aside. I had to try to save as much as possible from my show, from the mask of timid and awkward Diego.

"I don't know what you mean. I do not show off with the few tricks I learnt in Madrid, because…" I started a bit lengthy explanation falling into the usual Diego tone, but he interrupted me shortly:

"Few tricks? Do you take me for a complete idiot?"

Well, actually, no. Unfortunately, he was an intelligent man.

"It seems that Barcelo's talent to notice the details sometimes covers before him the... general picture," Damian almost chuckled and immediately grimaced with pain, pressing the towel stronger to the wound. And then he looked me straight in the eyes and said seriously: "I thought you are no more than a presuming asshole. I am sorry."

No matter how surprised I was with these words, I wasn't going to thank him for them. I called to my face the expression of confusion and disbelief, when suddenly I heard Rosa's surprised gasp. I followed quickly her sight… just to notice Oscar Peraza jumping to the patio from the hacienda's wall.

"Welcome, _Senor_," he said to me with angry grimace.

I am afraid that the return of the clumsy Diego will have to be delayed.

Seeing his face, I immediately knew he came here seeking vengeance. For the second time, it crossed through my mind that I made a few mistakes arranging this day… But my first aim was ensuring the safety of the old man who trusted me with his life. Of course my father and Bernardo were still at the pueblo, guarding Guinassi. But where was Barcelo? He should have been chasing this man already…

I smiled, pointed to the wall he just jumped from and noticed casually:

"It was not necessary, the gate is open," simultaneously nearing toward the unwanted guest.

Unfortunately, my words didn't distract him, as before I get to him close enough to attack, Oscar quickly pulled the pistol from his waistband and aimed at me:

"Not a step more, _Senor_."

I reluctantly stopped. Before I managed to answer, I heard Damián who neared to us too, his eyes fixed on his brother:

"What are you doing here?" he asked sharply. I have never seen so much tension in his behavior before, not even when he was speaking to me. Still, if it comes to fight – won't he take the side of his brother? After all, no matter how difficult the disagreements may be, don't the brothers finally always stick together?

"So, Damián, you are here too? Sometimes we do think alike, don't we? Anyway, you look awful," replied mockingly Oscar. "You dueled with him? Who could say that such _senorito_ will buffet you in such way. And I thought that you can at least fence." He laughed and I saw how Damián's fists clenched and his eyes shined with anger, though he remained unusually for him silent.

Oh, well. I do have an idealistic picture of the brotherly bonds.

When he spoke, I used the occasion to quietly sign Rosa to hide in the house. However, Oscar, even absorbed with taunting his brother, watchfully observed everything that was happening at the patio. As soon as she started to move, he immediately moved the aim from me to her.

"No, no, the _senora_ stays. Her presence maybe useful," he said threateningly and turned to me: "If you move, I will shoot at her."

"You have only one bullet," I reminded him quietly, but he only laughed:

"Yes, but what if I hit? You want to risk it?"

I measured the distance between us three. That was all wrong… Rosa stood on the other side of the patio than me and Oscar, but a good shooter should hit from such range. I was still too far from him, to be sure that I will manage to catch his hand – or get into the shot line to cover her. If he was only aiming at me, I might be able to duck in time…

I smiled to her calmingly and she smiled back. I hoped that my smile was more convincing that hers.

"Leave it. Leave them. You will gain nothing here," I heard the quiet voice of Damián behind my back. He looked at his brother with tension, squeezing unknowingly the forgotten towel in his hand, not noticing the blood that was still slowly dripping from his cheek.

"I will gain the revenge!" spat angrily his brother and turned to me again. "Your father takes the professor from the camp and soon after that lancers arrive searching for me? Not hard to guess what does it mean! You both, the old man and you, dandy, you both are too nosey for your own good! And no one, no one comes into my way without paying for it!"

Well, to some extent these two brothers did think alike… However only to some extent, as before I managed to answer Damián spoke once again:

"They had nothing to do with it. It was Zorro, and him you will never find. Leave them and go. I will… I can go with you."

"Shut up and stop… playing wise… '_magistrado'_," Oscar almost laughed in his face, not seeing how much this last sentence must have cost his brother. "This man and his father had been a nuisance from the beginning, I won't miss the occasion for the vengeance. I thought I will meet the old man here, but it is even better this way. He will find an unpleasant surprise after his return," he grinned.

I didn't know whether Damián was trying to save me… or to talk his brother to escape before the soldiers arrive, but I knew he won't persuade him to reason. The wild beasts searching for pray cannot be reasoned… I stood near enough to see Oscar's face, I knew he came here with the intention to kill, and will not resign. I also knew, that like any wild beast, he will choose the weakest victim.

I looked once more at Rosa and, although I was trying to smile again, her face told me that this time I was absolutely unconvincing.

Oscar won't let move neither me, nor her. Yet, he still kept Damián as his accomplice. Who knows, maybe he was still his accomplice. Anyway, I had to try. I slightly turned, catching his glance, and pointed him Rosa, with a silent plea.

Our eyes met for a moment, yet I couldn't read any sign of agreement in his face. After a few seconds he just turned away.

Without casting any further glance at me, he casually walked to the place, where his rapier still laid on the ground, raised it, then neared to the table on the other side of the patio, taking his belt and jacket.

It seemed I was alone.

I swallowed the disappointment and concentrated on the man with the pistol.

"Soldiers must be after you. They should be here any minute," I warned Oscar trying to make a step forward, but he immediately raised his pistol a bit higher.

"Don't move. But you know – you are right. End of talks." He looked at Rosa and his face darkened in the way that sent cold shivers down my spine. Yet, I used this moment to make a half of the cautious step forward.

"I will never let anyone ruin my plans and get away with it," Oscar's voice was dripping with malice. Next step. He was now too excited to notice it. "You sniffed too much, you asked too many question… So you won, fine, but I doubt that you will enjoy it."

I didn't manage to make the next step, as he turned to me with the face changed with cruelty in a shape of the mask:

"You seem to care for this woman… and she carries your child… so, that way we will be even," he concluded and I understood he will shoot in a second.

That was the moment - I lunged forward, reaching for the pistol he kept. I managed to catch it in the moment the shot fired. Having sent Oscar to the ground at one stroke I quickly turned to Rosa.

She was safe.

The bullet scattered no more than the doors of the hacienda, and Rosa wasn't even near them – Damián pulled her away in such way that he shielded her from the bullet, even if I didn't manage to grasp Oscar's hand in time.

In that moment I forgave him everything.

Distracted by the wave of relief I didn't notice Oscar rising to his feet soon enough and barely managed to dodge a sudden flash of steel beside me. The knife's blade, aimed at my throat slipped just over my shoulder when I turned to him, grabbing his wrist. For a while, we fought for the blade and then lost the balance falling on the ground.

Wrestling on the ground over the knife has nothing to do with the elegance of the duel. We just rolled on the patio, trying to hit, cut, strangle or pin down each other. A few times I felt the blade biting my hands or sliding by my neck. I heard Rosa screaming my name so it must have looked rather dangerously, though I barely felt the pain. I don't know how long it took, probably no more than few seconds, but when you fight for life, the seconds change into eternity.

When he suddenly ceased moving, I couldn't even say whose hand was keeping the blade in the moment it stubbed his heart. Neither was I interested in it.

Oscar Peraza was dead and I was the last one to mourn him.

I rise with certain difficulty, breathing heavily. Rosa stood by the wall, keeping her hand over her mouth, fighting back tears. She wanted to run to me, but I quickly signed her to stay away.

There was now a question what Damián will do. After all, the brothers… well, I must finally admit that I have no idea how far the hatred between the brothers can reach…

Damián's face was empty. He knelt by the corpse of his brother and, with quick and precise movements, examined the wound and checked the pulse. No, it didn't seem that he was looking for some signs of life… rather making sure that there weren't any.

Yet when he raised his eyes on me, there was something strange in his sight – as if it suddenly softened.

"I knew I would feel relief when he is gone. It doesn't surprise me. What does, is that I also feel relief it wasn't me who killed him," he said quietly.

I just stood not sure what I shall say now. What words would be suitable to comfort the brother after the death of the brother he wanted to kill? Though, I must say, that right now he looked rather pitifully, with the hands in blood, both his and his brother's… I felt sorry for him, but I knew he would rather die – or, to be more precise, kill me – than hear the compassion in my voice, so I said simply.

"Thank you for helping my wife."

"Don't," he replied rising, back in his usual cold disposition. "If he aimed at you, I wouldn't move."

I only smirked and went to Rosa. She was sitting quietly at the stairs leading to the first floor, but seemed to be fine.

"How do you feel? You got scared?" I asked leaning over her.

"A little," she admitted. "When he aimed at me… I felt so helpless…" she wrapped her arms around her belly in a protective gesture. "I knew I should do something, but I also knew I won't be quick enough."

Then she moved her eyes at Peraza and her face darkened a little.

"Do you think I should thank him too?" she asked reluctantly.

"I don't think he cares for it," I replied gently. "But now we must decide how we are going to… solve this situation…" I enigmatically pointed to the battle scene, in which turned our usually so cozy patio.

Unfortunately, it was time to return to the unsettling associations that Damián recently acquired, concerning my humble person and certain black bandit …

As if confirming my fears he looked at me with a trace of strange amusement in his eyes:

"I am afraid I won't be able to help you with the amnesty anymore," he noticed ironically.

I bridled a little, but before I decided what to reply, we heard a rider nearing the hacienda. For a while I silently prayed that it would finally be my father, but Rosa, who quickly climbed the stairs to see over the wall of the hacienda, ran back to me with worried face:

"It is Barcelo. And lancers follow him in a distance."

Now? I truly missed him no more than a quarter ago, but now? What awful timing! I looked a bit helplessly around. Now that was a mess… True, Barcelo knew that I am not a complete milksop, but to explain all these achievements… successful duel with Peraza – who happened to beat Barcelo rather spectacularly – defeating such goon as Rivera… and if Damián still holds a grunge and starts to accuse me…

I was not sure if I even lie good enough to… lie me out of it… Yet I had to try… I sighed resignedly and headed for the gate, when Damián stopped me:

"Tell Barcelo that I killed him," he said quietly pointing at the body of his brother.

I looked at him surprised and noticed that he raised his brother's knife and kept it in his hand, which, added to his bloodied shirt, made rather convincing picture of the murderer.

"What? No!" I protested and reached to tear out the knife from his hand, but he moved it back a little and with the second hand placed a solid punch on my jaw, with the strength indicating that he has dreamt about it for a long time. It took me absolutely by surprise so I just landed on the ground a few feet away.

And that was the picture Barcelo saw when he entered the patio: still body of the man he knew as Oscar Rivera, me crumbling awkwardly from the ground and Damián, with the blood all over him and the knife in his hand.

To tell the truth the picture was so unequivocal that I would get some suspicions, but Barcelo didn't. He immediately pressed the blade of his rapier to Damián's throat, forcing him to move back to the wall.

"Rivera tried to attack us, and I killed him," explained calmly Damián, but didn't try to move.

"You killed him? Your accomplice? How convenient!" Barcelo hissed obviously not convinced.

With certain difficulty I rose to my feet and neared to them. No matter how suitable Peraza's… offer for me was, I wasn't going to let him do it.

"_Capitán_," I said calmingly, putting the hand on his shoulder to draw his attention.

When he looked at me, I saw both relief and guilt on his face.

I knew why he arrived here a few minutes before his lancers and why he was behaving now so aggressively… When Oscar escaped him, he must have guessed that he will go to our hacienda, seeking the revenge… My poor friend, the anxiety must have been killing him when he was rushing here.

Then, however, his glance passed behind me through the patio and his eyes opened wide with surprise as he noticed the details of the scene.

"Swords, pistol, knife?... Did he attack you with all this? What exactly happened here?" he asked a bit confused.

I was about to start the explanations, when Rosa ran between us, all in tears and pale as if she was going to faint in a second.

"Diego!... I thought this man will kill you!" she sobbed faltering.

I was sure that she was going to… distract Barcelo from asking troubling questions, so when she, losing conscious, wavered toward not him, but me, I barely managed to catch her.

For one terrible moment, I thought that she really might have felt sick after all the events that took place here. I forgot Barcelo and Peraza, hurriedly carrying her to the hacienda.

However, as soon as I placed her on the sofa, she quickly raised her head and whispered:

"Be quiet, Diego, and let him do it."

"No," I only managed to reply, wiping the sweat from my temple with still shaking hand. I understand that she can keep motionless for a while, but how does she always manage to get so white?

"Diego, don't you think he should do a few… good deeds before he will be able to look into the mirror?" she urged me angrily.

"Rosita, I am not going to owe him…" I started trying to stand, but she didn't let me.

"Don't be childish. You solved his riddle, and he solved yours. You are even. And we need him," she looked at me almost pleadingly.

I hesitated.

I might go to Barcelo now and deny Damián's story. Then he unavoidably gets some doubts and will not stop asking questions, until he learns the whole truth.

All in all, it is likely that both me and Peraza would finish in prison, maybe even in the same cell, just as I imagined it earlier. And something told me that none of us deserves it.

Life is complicated, so justice shouldn't be blind.

"Don Diego, how is she?" asked anxiously Barcelo entering the sala.

"Good. She just… got scared," I replied absently.

"I am so sorry, Don Diego, I should have foreseen it," he looked at me apologetically. "Your father insisted on staying with Guinassi until his accomplices are arrested, so I should have sent some lancers to your hacienda instead. We lost too much time searching for Rivera, and when it fell to me that he might have come here…"

"It is all over now, _Capitán_, and everything finished well," I calmed him, adding after a while: "Mostly thanks to the _magistrado_."

Barcelo shook his head in disbelief.

"So you confirm his story? But how can I know that he didn't just kill his accomplice in order not to be accused by him?"

"_Capitán_, it… it wasn't so…" I started slowly and finally finished with a sigh: "Rivera tried to shoot my wife and attacked me. You have my word for that."

Barcelo raised his eyebrows but I saw he believed me. After all, he knew how I respect my word…

"So, who could say that even such man like Peraza can do something… of use?..." he muttered.

Then he waved his hand and continued regaining his usual energy. "Anyway, he will not evade the responsibility for this intrigue they plotted together. The testimony of this… Guinassi should be enough to warrant him a few long years in prison. I am going to put him under arrest and send to Monterey, to the governor's judgment, still today."

I nodded a bit sadly, but Barcelo didn't notice the regret on my face as he just cast a glance through the window and the view drawing his attention.

"What exactly is he doing there? Praying, or something?" he asked surprised and I followed his sight.

The lancers crowded at the gate of the hacienda but didn't enter the patio. And Damián, oblivious to their curious glances, kneeled over the body of his brother. Guessing from the small gesture he made, he has just closed the dead man's eyes, yet didn't move back his hand, only kept it motionlessly on his face.

"I don't know, _Capitán_," I said quietly, "but give him a while."


	14. All's well that ends well

**All's well that ends well**

I was calmly ordering in the library the books Barcelo returned to me – and after all these weeks of his stay here it was quite a considerable pile – when I heard the loud crash and angry curses behind my back. It was my father, who rushed away from the secret passage, almost falling on the floor.

"I believe we should use these hidden passages with more discretion, Father," I noticed, grabbing his arm to help him regain the balance.

"I have just… stubbed my feet over some… needlework basket?..." he raised the guilty item and glanced at me with irritation: "Really, Diego, it is getting a little troublesome. You should speak with your wife and remind her that actually it is the hacienda that serves for living, not these corridors."

"Don't exaggerate, Father," I smiled to him. "What's wrong in a bit of eavesdropping? Rosa says it is her only entertainment now."

My father bridled a little and muttered something, but then looked at me more cautiously:

"I see that you are in an exquisite mood today, Diego."

"Why shouldn't I? We are done with that water intrigue… Rivera is dead and no one has to be afraid of his vengeance… And finally, Father, what would you think about organizing the nice good bye party for _Capitán_ Barcelo?"

"And that is exactly what I wanted to talk with you about. Aren't you a little worried?" stated my father, sitting in the armchair. "Do you think he will just so simply leave?"

"Why not? His assignment finishes in a few days," I noticed innocently.

"Without any further attempt to catch Zorro? His time here is almost over and during the last few days he did nothing but sitting in the _cuartel_ and filling in the reports."

"Well, he did have a lot of reports to prepare, issuing the charges against the _magistrado_ and removing him from the office isn't as simple as arresting some vaquero for the drunken brawl… And I am sure he wants to leave the archives in the perfect order. After all, he was rather disappointed with the state of the documentation under the rules of our brave sergeant," I chuckled recalling Monastario's reports that disappeared so mysteriously.

"It is not funny, Diego!" my father waved his hand impatiently when I wanted to pour him some Madeira. "He hunted… Zorro with unusual determination, desperation even… He used every means available, set one trap after another… And now he is so quiet… Aren't you afraid he may be up to something?"

For a moment I sat in silence. That was the question I have asked myself very often during the last few days. After arresting Damián Peraza and sending both him and Guinassi to Monterey, _Capitán_ Barcelo behaved so… calmly. One could be surprised with it. I wasn't.

Was I flattering myself thinking that I know Capitán Barcelo so well?

"No, Father. I don't think he is up to something," I replied finally.

"You think he doesn't want to catch the Fox anymore?" my father raised at me curious sight.

"I think that he lost his initial ardor for this task," I smiled to him and added after a while: "Father, Barcelo will never admit openly that he changed his mind… even a bit… He said once that he may be defeated but he will not resign. So… it seems he just lets himself be defeated."

My father looked at me with a shadow of doubt in his face, yet finally he decided to trust my judgment.

"All right then. In such case we may organize this party for him," he said graciously, "to sweeten the bitterness of the defeat. Besides, Rosa will have some entertainment. I have got the bad feelings about her interest in these passages…" he finished with a sigh, and could do nothing but agree.

* * *

The evening for Barcelo's party was more than perfect, warm, but not stuffy, with cool evening breezes playing with the Chinese lanterns we hung among the flowers on the patio. Carmelita was delighted as a child, running around and clasping her hands. Rosa of course behaved much calmer, but I could see she enjoyed the evening too.

Unfortunately, there were two guests who didn't seem to equally admire the lights and flowers. To tell the truth, they didn't seem to notice them at all. The first one was Barcelo, surprisingly gloomy as for the main hero of the evening. However, at the beginning of the reception I had no occasion to ask him about the reason of his dejection, as he was occupied with receiving compliments and wishes from the other dons. The second sad guest was Sergeant Garcia staying alone in the corner with rather unsure expression. I neared to him, handing him the glass he gladly accepted.

"So, Sergeant, when the _capitán_ leaves, all the responsibilities will be again at your shoulders…" I noticed to remind him that all the excitement around the brave _capitán_ will soon be over… and the citizens of Los Angeles will come back to their good, old _acting commandante._

"Yes, Don Diego, and it will be hard to stand up to his example… The _capitán_ was so… effective, with pursuing the bandits, and the discipline in the _cuartel_, and… everything…" there was very little enthusiasm on his face as he spoke and finally he gave up the compliments and confessed with a sigh: "I must admit, Don Diego, in spite of all this I am glad he is leaving. I didn't feel very comfortable in his presence. Especially after he wanted to put me before the firing squad for treason."

"Yes, such incidents may change the mutual relations…" I nodded seriously my head.

"_Senoras, senores_, may I raise the toast to our esteemed guest, _Capitán_ Barcelo," I heard the voice of my father. "_Capitán_, you were one of the most memorable guests we had in our pueblo. You brought us many important lessons that will serve as valuable leads, helping us in future… to save our security."

Strange, but it seemed as if my father has acquired my ability of telling truth deep from his heart… with making the impression he speaks about something absolutely different…

Barcelo thanked him for the toast, but didn't give the speech everyone expected. Instead, he just walked toward me and the sergeant, staying quietly by us.

"You seem a bit downcast, _Capitán_," I noticed handing him the glass.

Before he managed to reply, Don Nacho Torres raised the next toast.

"_Capitán_, we will remember you as the example of determination and devotion to duty. We will long remain grateful for all the services you rendered to our pueblo, especially, for preventing the intrigue, aimed at the most respected citizens of this pueblo," he referred to the latest events.

Well, praising the last of Barcelo's achievement should cheer him up a little… but although he raised his glass and smiled, he muttered to me ironically:

"And for not catching the Fox, too. That is what everyone here is the most grateful, I assume."

"You really are downcast, _Capitán_," I commented. "Tell me…"

"I wonder why this Guinassi decided to testify against his accomplices," interrupted me Don Nacho, nearing to us.

"Remorse, I guess," I said quickly trying to cut this subject, but Don Nacho decided to pursue it further:

"I would rather say Zorro had something to do with it. Do you remember how he appeared when they were moving the camp? This cheater must have felt scared and…" finally he noticed my desperate signs, but looked at Barcelo not abashed even a little.

"Well, I am sorry, _Capitán_, but no one can deny that there are plenty things we owe to the Fox…"

"This time you owe it rather to Don Diego," Barcelo cut him off quietly and I choked with my wine. Just as Sergeant Garcia.

Don Nacho looked at the _capitán_ expectantly and he explained:

"Guinassi told me that they never intended to prolong their intrigue so much as they did. They only wanted to sign the agreement, collect the money and disappear. Had it not been for Don Diego, who was so inquisitive and mistrustful, forcing them to all these tests… they would have succeeded."

"But what were they counting on when their initial plan failed?" asked Don Nacho, raising to me his glass with appreciative smile.

"They were just playing on time… I am not sure, but it seemed that they were counting on that Rivera to… well, to threaten you somehow, Don Diego," stated the _capitán_.

They were rather counting for winning Zorro's cooperation, that way or another… but no one will ever get to know it. These are the matters between me and Damián Peraza.

"Luckily they didn't manage," said Rosa slipping her hand behind my arm. "Luckily for us, that… Guinassi just wasn't able to bear the remorse… or the fear any longer."

That is what my wife said and that is the official version. I smiled confirmatively hoping to finish finally that discussion, when Don Ignatio, Rosa's father joined our little circle:

"But it failed so little for the misfortune to happen! This Rivera could have killed you both, while he should have been already under arrest!" he exclaimed throwing an accusatory glance on the _capitán_.

Don Ignatio is the perfect father-in-law. Always on my side, always ready to protect me… Only that he has an awful timing.

"But it finished luckily," I quickly chimed in, "thanks to Peraza's intervention."

"That is the thing I cannot understand!" exclaimed Don Nacho. "Why the respected _magistrado_ took part in such mean intrigue!"

"Greed, I suppose," Barcelo shrugged his shoulders. "He was not the man we all thought him to be."

No, he wasn't. But not in the way everyone here believes. Yet the people are always so eager… to judge.

"He was a good _magistrado_, before this affair started," I reminded them quietly.

"Stop excusing him, Diego," Rosa's father interrupted me. "You two had a bone to pick with each other from the beginning. There was no friendship between you."

"That doesn't mean he wasn't the good _magistrado_," I repeated stubbornly.

"Maybe, but I am not such forgiving Christian as you, Diego," Don Nacho shrugged his shoulders, the tone of his voice indicating that he has rather little respect for Christian values on this occasion. "That man wanted to cheat us all, and I am glad that he is going to spend the next part of his life in prison."

"Actually, he is not," muttered gloomily Barcelo.

So, he heard it. That must be the reason of his bad mood.

"What do you mean, _Capitán_?" asked Don Nacho.

"I received today the news from Monterey… As soon as Peraza got there, the governor intervened… Well, not exactly the governor himself, but some relative of his… son of his brother… or sister, I don't know!" bridled angrily Barcelo. "Anyway, someone the governor is very attached to. He stood up for Peraza, and this scoundrel was discreetly released. There won't be even a trial," the capitán waved wearily his hand.

"What?" Don Ignatio almost jumped. "To simply let go… such rascal? Diego, can you imagine? On what world are we living?"

"I have no idea," I replied with my eyes round with innocent astonishment.

"At least he will not dare to show himself in California anymore," concluded Barcelo. "That is a good point. He immediately left Monterey. I heard he went east, to the _Americanos_. He should find the luck there, they do appreciate people with the initiative!" the _capitán_ snorted with irony.

"Yes, _Capitán_, the most important is that the intrigue was exposed and no one fell victim to the deception," I said calmingly, hoping finally to cheer him a little.

"All's well that ends well," added Sergeant Garcia with content smile. During our short conversation he refilled his glass a few times and now his previous dejection disappeared without the trace. "And in this case everything ended the best it could, don't you think, _Capitán_?" he smiled warmly to Barcelo, unaware of the dark clouds gathering in the eyes of his superior.

"And what exactly do you mean by that, Sergeant?" Barcelo asked with dangerous politeness.

"Oh, well, _Capitán_, the evil ones were defeated and the good one managed to… ah!" he jumped, grimacing with pain when I kicked his ankle, "I mean that… I don't mean of course that Zorro is good, I only wanted to say… say that it is good when…"

"When the good people like us can enjoy such pleasurable evening in a nice company," I finished smoothly for him.

"Yes, Don Diego. Exactly. That's what I just intended to say," he looked at me with gratitude.

Yet Barcelo definitely wasn't in a good mood tonight.

"Oh, please, Sergeant. I know you are not the only one here who enjoys the failure of my assignment," he bridled with irritation.

"Don't say so, _Capitán_," I started to console him – though I was definitely the one enjoying the failure of his assignment. Yet before I managed to continue, Don Ignatio chimed in:

"And don't give up. It is not too late to try for the last time, _Capitán_!"

I felt Rosa's hand strengthening the grasp on my arm, as she casted an anxious glance on her father. I pretended to be oblivious, but had rather bad premonitions about the direction my esteemed father-in-law was driving at.

"What do you want me to do, _Senor_?" asked Barcelo in a tired voice. "I have tried everything. I am just… out of ideas."

"Well, I will give you one!" replied merrily Don Ignatio, satisfied that he can preach the brave _capitán_. "Why not take a few peons and put them in prison on some absurd charge? _El Zorro _will come to rescue them! He always does! And you will have a possibility to set a nice trap."

"Father!" exclaimed Rosa with indignation and Don Nacho echoed her:

"How can you even say such thing, Ignacio! Imprison innocent people!..."

"Oh, we will compensate them all the inconveniences. Generously. And you, _Capitán_, will arrange it in the way it would look convincing enough, yet no harm would happen to anyone…"

Barcelo's eyes glittered for a moment and I hardy suppressed the impulse to hide the face in my hand. Of course, I will have to ride and free them, even knowing the trap. _El Zorro _always does. He couldn't fail the scared people waiting for his help.

I am not angry at Don Ignatio. I know he did it for me. He became worried with the accusations Barcelo's made under my address… and decided that only the capture of the masked bandit can definitely clear me from all suspicions.

But it means only I will have to ride… risk once again, when I already thought the happy end of this adventure is so near… Risk so… senselessly, fighting the man I respect…

Rosa kept squeezing my arm, but she didn't dare to oppose her father. Don Nacho shook his head with obvious disapproval, yet the decision belonged to Barcelo, and its result seemed rather clear. Shouldn't the good officer use all the means necessary to catch the bandit?

"So? What say you, _Capitán_? You can take a few of the peons from my rancho, if you want," Don Ignatio urged him, eager to help in the military action.

But Barcelo didn't reply immediately. He didn't reply for so long that we all looked at him expectantly and the silence got rather uncomfortable.

"Uugh.. well… thank you, Don Ignatio, but no. I don't think I will do it," he finally stuttered out, looking at the ground under his feet.

Then, feeling he needs to explain himself, he looked at us almost shyly and continued:

"Now I realize that the chase after that man made me do things I would earlier never approve… For Heaven's sake, I even arranged the robbery!" he bridled with sudden anger. "And now, put innocent people under arrest? Because I know he will come and help them?" he looked at us incredulously and finished so quietly that it was almost the whisper: "So who would be the bandit then?"

No one dared to break the silence that fell after his words. He just looked at us for a few seconds, then absently rubbed his temple, turned on the spot and left.

I believe I really know well _Capitán_ Barcelo. After all, the best way to get to know the man is to learn what kind of books he prefers. And it just happens so, that all the books he appreciated were also my favorite ones.

* * *

After the party at the hacienda I knew that _Capitán_ Barcelo won't bother the Fox anymore… unless of course the Fox enters his way too ostensively. Yet, I thought that after all that _Capitán_ Barcelo and _el Zorro _had come through, it would be rather rude to let him leave without farewell, so on the evening before his departure I rode to the pueblo in the black attire and sneaked behind the tavern.

The yard was dark and quiet, but not so dark that I couldn't see the lonely silhouette of Private Sanchez sitting on some old barrel, looking wistfully at the brightened windows of Carmelita's quarters.

Wordlessly, I stepped out of the shadows and sat near him.

After the moment of silence he turned to me the pitiful sight, looking exactly as young as he really was.

"She is so excited with the travel that she hardly noticed me saying good bye…" he confessed sadly.

I only nodded and after a while he added:

"I wouldn't have much chance for a girl from such family as hers anyway, would I?"

"No. No, you wouldn't," I admitted gently with regret.

He just sighed and I looked for the words to hearten him.

"Such things just happen, my young friend, and we can only accept them… There are plenty beautiful girls in the word… and many of them will break your heart, before you find that one for you."

Of course he wasn't consoled. There are no words to console the boy losing his sweetheart.

"One for me? And what if she happens to be… unattainable, too rich, too noble, bound with someone else… How will I know that she is the only one?" he asked a bit bitterly. I guess he heard that Carmelita is to be engaged just after her return to Santa Barbara.

"You know," I replied after a moment, smiling, "it is the best to leave such things for women to decide. If a girl makes up her mind that she is the one for you, no obstacles will be undefeatable."

He smiled a little too and I thought he will be fine. With time, of course.

"Well, my friend, if you have taken your good bye, it will be the best if you leave this place. Now it is my turn," I concluded our conversation.

Miguel nodded and jumped off the barrel, disappearing somewhere in the darkness. Then I climbed to Barcelo's balcony and politely knocked into the frame.

He was in his room, occupied by packing his belongings. When he saw me in the window he raised high his eyebrows, though I knew he wasn't surprised at all.

"Are you sure you didn't mistake the windows?" he asked ironically.

"Absolutely," I smiled. "I only came to bid a farewell with you, _Capitán_."

"Did you come here to mock me in the eve of my departure? If so, you are pushing your luck, Fox."

"I am not mocking you. I appreciate you both as the honorable man and as the officer devoted to his duty," I bowed to him seriously.

Barcelo smiled a bit reluctantly.

"Not all officers take gratefully the praises of the outlaws, but thank you. I cannot deny I appreciate you too. I appreciate your bravery and determination. Pity, that you hide yourself behind that mask… like a ruffian."

"_Capitán_, if all the officials were like you, it would be very possible that we could meet in the same uniforms," I chuckled realizing, that it was indeed probable. If I had finished my school, it would be expected that I spent some time in the army. "But as I had a choice between staying idly in the face of injustice or getting myself killed in some desperate charge, I gladly chose the third option."

Barcelo looked at me a little surprised, as if he for the first time realized that sometimes the circumstances make us choose different… types of clothing. Like the uniform. Or the mask.

He shook his head and smiled gently, his eyes shining with the idea of correcting the wrong:

"I know your intentions are good and you are… the noble man. So, prove it to everyone. Show your face. I warrant you a fair trial, it is more than likely you will be acquitted and able to fight openly for what you believe in…" he finished almost pleadingly and impatiently waited for my answer.

"I cannot, _Capitán_. I am afraid I am needed in that attire," I laughed gently to soften my refusal.

Nevertheless Barcelo's smile faded.

"This attire? It is the costume of the bandit! You are the man of tricks and shadows, whereas the division between right and wrong is… should be clear," he grimaced a little and I knew this small correction cost him a lot. "Show your face and start to live… like a decent man," he appealed once again, this time a bit harsher.

"No, _Capitán_," I shook my head. "Who knows what the future brings? Maybe something that will require… crossing this clear division? It would be better then, if no decent man has to do it, only the… bandit… who will later return into shadows."

Barcelo's sight darkened a little and I could clearly see the disappointment in his face.

"Well, Fox, so pray that our paths will not cross again," he said threateningly. "Because… in spite of all the.. respect I have for you… if that is your decision, my duty would be to see to that the justice would be made upon you."

Justice. Yes, this all started with the justice; that's why I put on the black attire and that is why I am not going to resign form it.

"Justice sometimes is… complicated," I replied wryly, more to myself than to him.

"That's what you keep saying," he replied striving to seem oblivious. "But these are only words. I don't deny that you are outspoken," he smirked with irony, "however, you won't convince me. No matter how noble your intentions were, you have chosen the wrong way."

I was very glad I was wearing the mask. Right now, my expression must have been a bit pitiful.

But what did I expect? That he will congratulate me? Why should I care for his... recognition in the first place? I have never been hungry for compliments, on the contrary, as Diego I didn't mind my friends think low of me.

And yet... I cared. This time it was not about Diego's play, this time it was about the real me. And he was my friend. I cared for his opinion.

Well, it seems that no one can win on all battles.

"Good luck, _Capitán_. Whatever the future brings," I said, sneaking out to the balcony.

"I would be careful with that wish on your place. Who knows what kind of assignments I will have in future," he replied challengingly... and that challenge reminded me of something. Something, that my friend from Monterey wrote me about.

I peeked once again into the room.

"_Capitán_… People say you have been asked if you want to prolong your assignment here and you refused. I wonder why. Have you perhaps decided that… getting rid of such ruffian like me… who has choosen the wrong way... is not neccessarily your idea of justice?"

Oh, well. I hit the point. All the nostalgia disappeared from Barcelo's face, as he stared at me for a while, getting more and more red with fury. He definitely was not the man easily admitting he changed his judgment.

For a moment he vainly searched for words to express his indignation and finally replied in the way definitely not befitting to the high rank officer from noble family:

"Just go to hell, you black bastard!" he shouted and slammed the window.

I sneaked down chuckling. Maybe he didn't congratulate me, but he couldn't deny that there are different... shades in life...

* * *

On the next day, Capitán Barcelo left the pueblo, farewelled by me and Sergeant Garcia with both recognition and relief. Slowly, the other things that got so complicated in the past few weeks began to straighten.

My father's bad premonitions concerning Rosa's interest in the secret passages fulfilled: one day she demanded the corridors to be cleaned, saying that she is tired with brushing her dresses from dust and cobwebs. My father was a little indignant, confiding to me – when she left us alone of course – that the passages served well to all our ancestors and no one ever complained to their condition. I waited calmly until he finished and then reminded him about the one thing that really mattered here - that there are only three people on whom actually this task could fall upon. On the next day, my father and I rode for a few days to the cattle market in San Diego and when I saw the passages after the return I must admit that the result was impressive. I even found a few new loopholes that could turn out to be quite useful in the future. However, judging from Bernardo's facial expression, if he could speak, he wouldn't say a word to me for a month at least…

Three weeks after Barcelo's departure the new _magistrado_, Senor Alvaro Rojas, took his office. His served many years on the same position in San Francisco, but at the autumn – late autumn – of his life he wanted to enjoy a peace of some smaller pueblo. If I had to describe him shortly, I would have to say that he was one of the most boring persons I have ever met. From time to time he visited our hacienda, as my father was indiscreet enough to mention once in his presence that I enjoy playing chess. I do, but _Magistrado _Rojas had the ability to make dull all the entertainment he took part in, the chess match including. So, I occasionally spent a long evening playing chess with him in the silence broken only by the wax dripping from the candles, with nostalgia recalling the different hobby of the previous _magistrado. _

I don't know what happened to Damián, how and where he decided to settle his life when he was free from his past. A few weeks after these events I only received a letter from him, short, rather cold and casual greetings wishing luck for me and happy delivery for my wife, possibly resulting in the birth of the healthy son, who would continue the de la Vega name and merits, as well as the other "family traditions worthy to be preserved".

Friends from Mexico sent me the news about Guilermo Guinassi. Thanks to his repentance that helped to prevent the intrigue aimed at the wealthiest citizens of Los Angeles, he was soon freed from all the charges. Then he decided to apply for the position at the _Universidad de Mexico_. The hearing went at first not to his favor, until he, nervous and abashed, searching through his documents for the proofs of his experience, strew all his papers in front of the commission. Then, the physicist accidentally present there, to Guinassi's confusion, took great interest in the schemes of his alleged water machine. Muttering something about vibrations and da Vinci's experiments with receiving the sounds from remote ships, he decided to take a closer look at this idea, employing Guinassi as his assistant.

As for Guinassi's workers, Jaimé didn't score Maria which cost him ten pesos lost to his friend. When he was a bit too persistent in the last day of their stay in Los Angeles, Private Sanchez threw him rather decisively out of the tavern. Maria was more than impressed and I – as I happened accidentally to be there – was more than happy to play for them a few melodies, suitable to dance.

One night from the cemetery mysteriously disappeared the grave that for a few hours was said to belong to the Fox and then just stood nameless. No one in the pueblo seemed to notice it or comment in any way.

As all the things turned out so lucky and calm, the Fox hadn't many reasons to ride. I could spend most of my days and nights as any decent and inconspicuous ranchero. Of course, I appreciated the peace and quiet after the storm that rolled over my head. Of course.

"Enjoy your boredom, Diego, till you can," whispered Rosa with rather sinister smile.

* * *

The white horse I bought for Rosa turned out to be the most vicious and sneaky beast I have seen. Usually he behaved like an angel, the sweetest and loveliest animal ever, shaking the snowy mane and fawning to everyone at the hacienda. Yet, when he was left alone with me, he immediately stopped his tricks, as if he felt that he doesn't have to hide his real nature from me. But when he met Tornado…

I took him a few times to a small meadow in front of my cave, where I could train him unnoticed. That was where he and my black friend met and for the first time I saw two animals so honestly hating each other. After the first glance and sniff they exchanged, they immediately started to fight, the white one throwing himself at the bigger and older stallion with admirable courage and my Tornado – replying him with an equal relentlessness. Separating the biting horses is not the pleasurable task, so the only thing I could do was to ensure they never meet again.

However, though I admired the spirit of the young horse, I was a little anxious about his violence. So I had to ride him a few times before I decided if he is the safe mount for Rosa. Besides, I just couldn't resist showing off such beautiful animal at the pueblo. Now, without _Capitán_ Barcelo's perceptive sight, I didn't have to mask myself so carefully – after all, the de la Vegas always were the good riders. So, I enjoyed the appreciative glances when one day I rode on him to the tavern.

"Ha, that horse, Don Diego!" exclaimed merrily Sergeant Garcia, staying in front of the tavern with rolls of paper under his arm. "So he is mature enough to carry the rider already!"

He reached to pat the animal's nose but quickly moved it back when the young stallion bared his impressive teeth in a quick snap.

"For short distances, yes," I replied pulling the horse aside. "But tell me, what are you doing, my friend?" I ask pointing at the papers he kept.

"Oh, these – these are the wanted posters for Zorro. The _magistrado_ – I mean the former _magistrado_ asked to take them off, but now his decision was declared void, so…"

"But it is only two thousand pesos," I noticed a little disappointed.

"Yes… now we do not have such resources as _Capitán_ Barcelo," replied Sergeant Garcia a bit vaguely, pinning the posters on his usual place on the tavern's wall.

"It is so good that the things are again as they used to be, Don Diego," he sighed satisfied looking at his work.

I smiled and nodded, but before I managed to invite him for some refreshments – well, wine – the postman approached us, handing me the letter from Monterey.

"A letter from the _Capitán_? What does he write?" asked curiously Sergeant Garcia, seeing the military seal on the envelope.

I opened the letter smiling. I have so many times thought about this moment and here it is. Zorro's secret is safe and Diego de la Vega can enjoy the letters form _Capitán_ Barcelo.

I quickly skimmed the letter… and froze for a moment.

No, it was not what I longed for.

"He took a leave, a prolonged, six-month leave, and went to Spain to his family," I replied to the sergeant, who was waiting for the answer.

"Nice! He deserves a leave after all he came through in Los Angeles!" pleased the Sergeant and added, "Strange that his family lives in Europe, whereas he serves here, don't you think, Don Diego?"

"Oh, true. That is why during the leave he is going to sell his house in Madrid, finish his business and take his family to California, as they will settle here."

"Nice!" exclaimed the Sergeant once more, a bit less cheerfully than before, but added bravely: "Perhaps we will meet again sometime? I must say that in spite of everything I got to like him."

"He likes you too, Sergeant. In fact, he writes also about you," I said slowly.

"About me?" this time there was nothing cheerful in the sergeant's voice. "And what does he write?"

"He is worried he may have displeasing news for you and asks me to prepare you for it."

"What… what kind of news?" stuttered the sergeant looking at me with anxiety.

"Concerning the fact, that you are so used to being an acting _commandante_ here, my dear Sergeant," I explained lightly. "He noticed how you appreciated your position."

"And… and they are moving me somewhere? After so many years?" the sergeant asked incredulously.

"No, they are not moving you, my friend… It is Barcelo. After his leave he is taking the position of the _commandante_ in Los Angeles. Permanently."

I finally raised my eyes on the sergeant and when our sight met, I knew that our feelings to the news are fully mutual.

"Ah," said the sergeant.

"Exactly," I replied.

Life is complicated.

* * *

**The end**

* * *

_That is how this story comes to the end._

_I am very grateful to everyone who devoted the time for reading it – and especially to these, who left the reviews. Each comment gives me the inspiration and encouragement to writing more._

_As you see, even if this story is ended, the whole thread isn't closed. With time, the last continuation from this… reality will appear._

_After all, Don Alejandro must finally get these grandchildren... :)_

_Thank you_

_Ida_


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